The Role You Were Born To Play
by angelofjoy
Summary: Christine outlives Raoul to become a very rich woman and the surviving patron of the Opera Populair. Please R
1. Lost Love

Chapter One: Lost Love

Christine walked the length of the veranda as she looked out on the green of the grass and the sway of the trees, and yet, she was not happy. She had felt like a stranger in her own home for a very long time. It wasn't as though she was a prisoner but something had left from her relationship with Raoul. He was distant, short tempers and never spoke to her out side of the regular civilities that went along with their marriage state. The wind blew past her face, cool and crisp and perfect in its effect as the hair around her face danced with the freedom she had never known. She realized that she was never free; that her deepest desires had never been met. For a while she had thought herself the happiest and luckiest creature in the entire world. But that had long since faded. She was but an object as she had always been.

Every morning he would rise from their bed and leave her. He never touched her anymore. It was as though a line had been drawn down the center of the bed and should she dare to cross it some great danger would occur. He often pushed her aside if ever she tried to be close to him. He was filled with disgust for her. She knew that the next step would be for him to completely quit their marital bed and return to another of the unused bedrooms in the huge house he had purchased to keep her locked away in.

She would join him in the breakfast room, the news would be retold from behind the paper that he held, instead of looking at her, and he would be gone for the day. Christine remained alone with her house staff for most of the day but the duties of a wife were numerous and so the time was occupied to an extent. She chose the meals, the flowers, any alterations that should happen to keep the house looking as it should. Sadly, even with a house full of the house staff they were invisible for the most part and preferred not to be talked to outside of the orders that were given. They were not to be a ladies companion, as Christine ought to see herself. She was left in seclusion as she had no friends in her station of life. The people she had once known were below her station now and were not the kind of people that a Countess would associate with. But she was looked down upon by upper society. She was a theatre child; the girl who had bewitched a man of great fortune and so she deserved her solitude. She would not be accepted by any of them if her husband was not around to benefit from their society.

. Raoul would return in time for dinner, which was mainly spent, once again in recounting any news of the day, new plays that were opening, who was sleeping with whom and who had made the biggest disgrace of themselves. He would then motion for her to leave and he would then retire to his study to enjoy his port and his books, leaving Christine in her music room with her violin and her piano until night had completely fallen and she would return to her bed. Her maid would help her with her dress, she would wear the cloths that were purchased for her by Raoul and then she would take to the marital bed once again. He would come up late in the night and would be the first to leave. There were times she had convinced herself that she had felt him shudder at just the sight of her laying in his bed. Christine was but a ghost in her own home, one that terrified and disgusted her husband and who should have remained in her lowly position as theatre rat.

She did not sing much anymore, but played the piano as often as she could. It was the one comfort she felt now. The melodies that had so long been lost to her, the sounds of the note that were meant for her and her alone, were now all that she could think of. She struggled through her playing to remember them. To capture them again and to bring some resemblance to herself of what she once was. When she had first come away with Raoul and their love for each other was strong and seemed like it would last forever, Christine tried to give up the music for the roll of a wife. But it was not long before she could no longer deny herself the love of her music and Raoul had seemed pleased to allow her the pleasure that music had once brought to her. The piano forte, the harp and the violin had all been gifts presented by her husband in their early life together and he would sit in the music room, late into the night and listen with enchanted ears to the dove he had plucked from the theatre attic and placed in a palace to bloom and grow. Music masters were hired and came to their manner house to teach Christine. Though her voice was still moldable she was more interested in her fathers art and a feeling from within told her that she should learn any keyboard instrument that she possibly could. Without telling Raoul why she requested another professor and soon a piano forte and a professor was brought before her. Her music mentors had long since disappeared but Christine did not stop her playing.

In the beginning of her marriage she was a vibrant lovely sort of woman looking only for the freedom and love that she believed she would have with Raoul and for the first few years all was well. They were never apart. Their love was strong and it was very seldom that Christine was not in her husbands arms, but as the years passed something changed. Christine blamed the change in her husband on her inability to produce for him a child. They had tried and tried but Christine was not able to become pregnant or if she did she had lost the child very early into the pregnancy and after this had occurred more then once Raoul began to become distant.

It was a gradual change in her husband, something that she really didn't see coming. It started with small things until one night, at an acquaintances dinner Christine realized that she was nothing more than an object of show for her husband. It was true that she had gained a lot in the marriage and she knew that Raoul would not turn her out and leave her destitute, she had money enough put away because of his generosity and she was, after all, a countess but that was all. That night, after a very entertaining evening Raoul handed her into the carriage with a wave of gallantry for the bystanders but when he took his place beside her no words were spoken. Christine believed that the evening had been a great success. Raoul had been proud, talkative, and very gentleman like, but when she tried to talk to him, on their way home, even going as far as moving close to him, he cringed and moved away. Not another word was spoken.

It had now been a long time since Christine and Raoul were happy. She believed that she still loved him, or at the least was still devoted to him, but she could not bare the thought of living in such conditions. She had walked the ground of their manner, protected from the eyes of the neighborhood and had nearly thrust herself into the river on more then one occasion. Would he come to her rescue she wondered but knew that the answer was no. She would have to learn to be the object and she wished for the strange sweet voice that had once persuaded her to be what she was now forced to become. She would not have to wait long however before her life would be turned upside down.

Raoul returned home one evening complaining of a strange pain in his back and was visited by his physician, only to find out that Raoul was extremely ill, in fact, Raoul was dying. Refusing a stay in the hospital Raoul requested that he be taken home and there Christine nursed him, along with the medical staff that had been sent to tend to him. But, even with her renewed worth, the love was lost from Raoul. He rarely spoke to her; he wouldn't even look at her if he could help it. He was cold and distant to the day he died.

As bright and as cheerful as the day had looked it was a somber, bitter, sweet day. Christine had just witnessed her husband's last breaths and was asked to step away as the doctor and his helpers prepared to move the body. She stepped out onto the veranda in hopes that she would find some solace in the outdoors but the weather did not mimic her mood and the cheerful day spelled something far different from her. Not only was she now a widow she was the sole survivor of the family and a very wealthy lady, and last of all, she was to continue as the patron of the Opera Populair.


	2. Christine in Control

Chapter Two: Christine in Control

Even with Raoul's death, Christine became a prisoner in her own home. She did not have anywhere to go and no one wanted to see her. She did not know how to act, as a woman of great wealth and from the very moment of Raoul being laid to rest she realized that people were out to take advantage of her, and so she closed herself into the manner house and continued her days as if Raoul were still alive.

The week after Raoul's death remain a blur of people, coming and going from the home, but every night Christine was left alone in the house where her husband lay in state awaiting his funeral. Every night she would venture in to put out the lamps herself and every night she would see him there, cold and stiff, the colour fading from him completely. In those moments she hated him with a passion that burned like sudden fire. She wished and prayed that by morning he would be gone from the house but every morning, for that week, she woke to a body in her home; a body that disgusted her in ways far greater then she had ever felt at seeing Erik's face.

Her hated for Raoul grew by the moment as people came and went from the home, giving false condolences and acting as if they really cared. Men would come to her with offers to buy the house, to sell the things that filled it, to invest her new money but she was always suspicious of them. She turned down every offer that was made to her and in that time people began to believe what they had always believed, that Christine was a proud, greedy young woman who had come looking for wealth and fortune. They did not know that they were living up to all of Christine's beliefs of them, that they were painted faces on displace, saying one thing and doing another, mocking the poor and the lowly while bragging of their charitable works. She began to hate them all.

Raoul was buried on a Monday morning. The weather suited the day perfectly. A thick fog had covered the world. The graveyard was cold and dark. Christine believed it was just the place for a cold, dark, man to be placed and when she arrived and saw that the grave site was near the grand mausoleum that once housed the Phantom's escape route she couldn't help but laugh.

"It serves you right, Raoul, to never be free from the darkness that you reaped. You were worse to me then a tortured old soul and I see it now. Let the Phantom haunt you for all your days, may Hell's fire lick at your feet, and let the devil mock you for all eternity," she whispered once all of the mourners had left her standing alone, in the fog at the grave site.

She could not feel sadness as she stood there looking into the dark, muddy earth that was about to receive her husband. Her gown swished on the ground, and the chill began to set in, but she could not feel sadness. Freedom had finally come to Christine Daae, but she did not know it at the time and from a dark corner, cloaked in gray and hidden by the shadows and the fog the Phantom heard her words and felt her close to him once more.

Christine returned to her home and sent for Raoul's accountant at once. The small mousey man arrived with the utmost punctuality and sat, intimidated, by the grand lady he had never seen before but who had put on the air of a grand duchess and a proud woman.

"You know my husband is dead, and has left me a great fortune, I presume," Christine said from one side of a giant mahogany desk in her late husbands study.

"I do, Countess," The little man squeaked.

"This pleases me," Christine said mimicking the grand ladies that she despised so much, "I would like you to see to it that the Opera Populair continue to have this families support. We will be giving the Opera twice what we have been in the past. I want to see Operas and I want them to be grand," She said with a swish of her hand.

"Very well Countess," the man said as he scribbled down her words, "anything else?" he asked.

"Yes, I want my husband removed from this house, everything that he enjoyed, this desk, these books, and this hideous wall paper. I want him to disappear like a ghost and I want it made up fit for a queen," She said, "do you understand?"

"Yes, my lady, but your husband is not cold in his grave, are you sure such measures are necessary," the man asked.

"He has been cold for ten years, sir, and so I will bring warmth to this house. If I am to stay in it then I shall be happy in it and Raoul shall not exist in it any longer then is absolutely necessary, do I make myself clear?" she asked.

"Yes, Madame," he said a little taken aback by her tone and her anger, "what shall be done with his possessions?" he asked.

"Sell them," Christine said with a wave of her hand, "and put the money back into making this house into exactly what I want. I will be dealing with you and you alone. You will hear of my ideas and you will find the people to get it done."

"But Madame I am just an accountant," he man said intimidated.

"I will double what you are being paid," Christine said.

"Very well," The man said a bit of excitement in his voice.

"Your name, sir?" she asked.

"I beg your pardon Madame?" he asked her.

"What is your name?" she said louder.

"Monsieur Robert Lafitte," the small man answered.

"Well, Monsieur Lafitte, that will be all, you will hear from me again very soon," Christine said and stood very abruptly and the meeting was over as suddenly as it had began.

Christine rushed off to her bedroom, a room that was not the marital suite but a room she had been moved into when her husband fell ill. She was shaking and exhausted, she had never behaved in such a way ever in her life and she could see that she had really intimidated the small man who had come at her command. She couldn't help by laugh at herself and although she had never dreamed it would happened. She thanked La Carlotta for her guidance in the ways of intimidation.


	3. A Visitor in the Night

Chapter Three: A Visitor in the Night

Once the renovations were over, and they happened very quickly, Christine locked herself away in the grand house. She had seen that everything that reminded her of her husband was taken away. Table, chairs, the instruments he had given her, clothing, carpets, everything was taken away and replaced with brand new. She hung heave drapes over the windows that were reminiscent of the curtains of the old opera house. She bought heavy antique furniture and ancient instruments that once belonged to great men. She covered the walls with portraits done in the modern style and she replaced her husband's servants with ladies maids and chefs. She even went so far as commissioning a painter to produce for her a new portrait, one of herself in an elaborates ball gown with a single red rose tied with a black ribbon and a white mask which she held in her lap. When it was hung in the grand dining room she stood below it and marveled up at it.

"Am I to become a phantom myself?" she asked the portrait as she looked at it, "will I become the solitary woman who wears a mask to hide the promise that once was? If it is to be like this then I shall wear the mask with pride," she said and with a swift movement closed the heavy curtains of the grand dining room and fell into the comfortable darkness that she had come to crave.

The house became like a tomb to Christine. The darkness was welcome; the candle light brought with it a smell that reminded her of the theatre and its lights. A grand chandelier hung in her new music room and though she could have seen it fitted up with oil lamps she was quite adamant that it should be a candle lit chandelier. Every night, after she had her dinner, a world class meal for one, her chandelier would be lit by a man she had hired for the soul purpose of lighting the lamps and she would sit at a great piano for hours and hours, trying to remember every note, every breath and every movement of the Phantom's music.

Daylight did, however, still have a mystical allure to Christine and on fine days she would dress as simply as she could, for she kept a set of very plain, very light gowns with her all the time and she would disappear into the extensive ground of her home. The gardens were something that she had always taken great pleasure in and although there was a gardener that tended too much of the manicured parts of her estate she had long ago had a hidden garden built deep in a wooded part of her land. The woods in this area opened up to a small pool that was fed by a hidden spring and in secret Christine had managed to have the space transformed into a veritable secret garden all her own. She would disappear into this garden, which was now walled in by towering stone and iron walls and ivy nearly as black as the night. Within the wall of the garden she planted roses, millions of them and she tended to them as if they were her children. Raoul had never known about the garden, or if he had, he never knew how to enter it and Christine found all her pleasure dancing and singing to her self and her roses as the mornings turned to evening and by the light of the stars she would reenter her tomb of a house.

Roses were always in her home now. The gardener had been told to plant roses in every bed and in every colour that he could find room for and he did and the smell of the roses, like a sweet tea, were constantly in and around the house. In the winter, roses were grown in a green house that Christine had, had built off one corner of the house and it was in this sunny space that she spent most of her winter days.

Christine had finally found happiness in her world. Music was always around her new and as captivating as it had once been when she lived and sang in the opera chorus. The sweet smells of roses were always in the air around her like the smell of a wonderful friend or a memory long ago forgotten. She had created for herself a world all her own and though there were days when she felt the pain of loneliness settle in around her she found that she could deal with her solitude very easily.

One evening as she passed from her secret garden to the gardens that opened up to the house she saw a figure standing by the open door and her butler was turning the man away.

"Who is that," Christine asked as she walked up the stairs looking like a ghost in white with the nights dampness clung about her simple gown.

"I am very sorry to disturb your solitude, Countess, but I have a business proposal for you," a man's voice spoke in the darkness.

Christine's back straightened and she stood proudly as the shock of the man's voice hit her and a sudden fear descended over her.

"I shall meet with this gentleman, Philippe, please have tea set out for us in the music room," Christine said to her butler to dismiss him and walked passed the figure into the house.

The man followed Christine in silence until she had opened the door of a bright room and moved aside to let the man pass through into the light. He did so and she followed him, moving much as she had once seen La Carlotta and even though she was very simply dressed she put on the airs of a Queen.

"You should not have come here, Erik," She said as she shut the door behind herself.

"Your husband is dead and leaves you a very rich woman, I have simply come to offer you the grand opera that you so desired," Erik said but he never lifted his eyes from the floor.

"You must know that I will probably never set foot in the Opera Populair again. I have given to it very generously and I want to support your arts but I cannot go back to that place," Christine said as she walked over to him and lifted his chin to see his face.

The Phantom had arrived without his mask, he looked old and pale but there was life still in his eyes. There was a sadness that seemed to be written all over his face and his body slumped as if he were in pain, or very tired.

"Is this all an act?" She asked as she looked him deep in the eyes.

Suddenly he straightened up and stood tall and proud but the sorrow did not leave his face.

"That is better," Christine said as she turned and walked to the piano and slid down across the bench. She rested her hands gently on the key and though her technique did not match his own she began to play a familiar melody that she had heard him sing many years ago.

"You see what time has done to me?" she asked softly above her playing.

"You've become what everyone believes you have become," Erik said as he ran his hand along the beautiful instrument Christine was playing.

"Yes, my beauty and youth are gone, I am not who I once was and I have no desire to be anything more then what people believe I have become. Let me live my life in peace and solitude," Christine said and stopped playing, "what do you want from me?"

"Your patronage," Erik answered.

"Then you have it," She said and began to play again.

"It will be a lot of trouble," he said towering over her now.

"Bring me the manuscript, I will have it sent to the opera with a large sum of money and the demand that it be performed," Christine said as she looked up at him and looked him right in the eyes, "If there is any hesitation as to the origins of the work then I will threaten to pull all funding. Some other grand institute for the arts would love my money," She said.

"I don't want it to happen that way," Erik said with a sigh, "I just want my works performed and I want recognition for it."

"Then you have to stop hiding," Christine said.

"That is why I have come here," he said as she looked at him once again, "no more threats, no more deals with the devil. I want to find some redemption before this old body lets me pass on. I don't want to be feared anymore."

"You will always be feared and that is your own fault. You killed people," Christine said as she played the opening sequence to Don Juan Triumphant, "or have you forgotten those days."

"How could I forget?" he said as he body began to slouch once more.

"Then what do you have in mind to redeem yourself?" She asked.

"I have a plan to redeem us both, if you would simply trust me," he said as he leaned on the piano.

Christine sighed, "I should have trusted you long ago," she said and they were interrupted by Philippe and the tea.


	4. The Phantom's Music

Chapter Four: The Phantom's Music.

Christine was left to herself for quite some time before the phantom dared to return to the manner house. The chill of winter had begun to creep across the land and though the foliage of her beautiful gardens were dying away, falling into the eternal sleep of winter, the fragrance of millions of blooming roses filled her house still. The curtains that adorned most of the windows of her house remained closed in this time of chill and though she marveled in the sunlight, winter always brought to her sadness. Her father had died in the winter; her heart had been attacked by the phantom in the grave yard as snow covered the ground and so she found herself trying to shut winter out of her world completely. The only room that remained open to the winter sun was the greenhouse and it was only this way to benefit her roses.

The countess also held a secret that only those closest to her kept. Christine's health was failing. It had been getting worse and worse since she had left the opera house and married Raoul. She became weaker with every passing year and her pain increased. Something was happening to Christine but her doctors couldn't tell her what was really going on. It was a mystery to everyone and Christine knew that it wouldn't be long before it took over her life and she would be incapacitated by it.

As the tempests of winter blew into Christine's world, Erik returned to her as well and their plan was set into motion. Philippe had been given instruction to show the man in, place him in the music room, and to tell him to remain there until the countess could attend to him. He waited patiently for her, and when he did finally arrive and Christine joined him, covered from head to toe in dark fabric and moving as if the winter chill had crippled her body he felt an uneasiness and doubt cripple his reserves. He was shocked by her appearance and though the room was warm and bright, by the fire, Christine shivered by the chill of the storm.

"You are not well, I will return another day," he said as he watched her cross the room and place herself in an armchair by the fire.

"No, we will discuss this now," she said haughtily, "come, show me your face and sit with me a while by this fire."

"I apologies for taking so long to return to you," he said as he removed the hood from this head and the mask from his face. He had returned the familiar mask after the last visit and had not removed it from his face since; even though he had not been in her presence again.

"You have been busy, I assume, what have you brought for me?" she asked.

"I have brought you the final edition of the manuscript you asked for," he said and reaching into a bag at his side he produced the sheets bound in a leather cover that made up _Les Miser de L'amour_.

"Am I to assume it is a tragedy?" Christine asked as she viewed the manuscript.

"Yes, that is correct," Erik answered.

"For now, this is acceptable I suppose but they will know it's you if you continue to write in this dark fashion," She said and handed the manuscript back to him.

"This is how I write," he said offended by her statement.

"I know," Christine said, "play some of it for me." She ordered.

Erik sat and stared at her for a moment as he contemplated the demands that he had just been presented with. Christine had changed in a way that he wasn't sure he liked. He saw that too much of her spirit had been jaded. She looked old to him, her beauty seemed to be fading away with ever passing second, and he wasn't certain he liked to be in her presence anymore.

"You do not like to be ordered about," Christine said with a sigh, "I am sorry but I do not take well to order either. My life was filled with them and I have vowed now never to be ordered around again. I had it first from my father, then from the ballet mistress, then from you and last from Raoul. I will not suffer that ever again. You best understand that, if you want my help."

"I understand," Erik said softly feeling the sting of the past upon him.

"Very well, if you do not feel like paying you may leave that on the piano for a day when I am well enough to play it myself, but at this time I am unable and quite fatigued. So you may play or you may go. Either way I will not be very entertaining." She said as she walked across the room to where a large cedar chest rested again a wall. She opened it, pulled from it a knit cover and returned to her seat.

"I believe you have long been wanting my absence, Madame, I apologies for keeping you so long." Erik said as he stood.

"It is as you wish," She answered closing her eyes.

Erik paused again, not knowing quiet how to read Christine. She was blank; all of her spirit had been taken from her. Raoul had stolen all of her liveliness. She was sad, dark; falling deeper into a depression than he had known but that he wished would not fall upon her. He had let her go in the beginning so that she would not become like him and yet here she was, a phantom in her house, quiet, fragile, letting life pass her by.

The wind blew in gusts outside as the windows rattled in their casings and the drapes tried their best to muffle the sound. He walked slowly to the piano and casting his traveling cloak, his sack and his dinner coat aside, he sat down, opened the manuscript to the overture and began to play what he had written for the orchestra in a condensed form.

"It is lovely," Christine whispered after several movements had passed and Erik continued through. "I am hearing things I haven't heard in years. There are very familiar melodies. There are moments of great warmth, sweetness, love and great affliction. It needs to be performed."

"I thank you Madame for you compliments," Erik said never ceasing his playing.

"Tell me, has this been your obsession these past ten years, or have you written other works?" she whispered.

"There are others," He answered, "but I am most pleased with this one at the present."

"Very well," Christine said. "We, you and I, will be making a trip to the Opera Populair very soon. I would have wished to see winter well behind us but I think that this should not wait. So, I will ask you to come to me in one week's time in the daylight. We will then plan our arrival."

"Would it not be better, Madame, if I simple met you there?" he asked still at the piano.

"No, though I assume you continue to haunt the opera I do not. I have a plan and thought I have never wanted to return to the opera I have decided that in such cases as these it will be best if I make a rather grand and shocking appearance." Christine said.

"You wish for me to be with you, walking arm in arm into the theatre were they fear me more than anything?" he asked.

"They will not fear you when I am through." Christine said. "You must trust me, for I have developed a plan that shall redeem you and make you one of the greatest composers ever to grace the stage of the Opera Populair. But I have one question that I must have you answer before I can move forward in any of this business."

"I will answer anything," he said as he stopped playing, placed the manuscript on the top of the piano and pulled on his dinner coat.

"What is your name?" she asked.

"You know it to be Erik." He answered.

"Yes, but what of a surname?" she asked.

"That should not be of any consequence." He said.

"But it is," she stated, "for you will not be known to them and I will introduce you by name. What then shall they call you for all of the great composers of the past are know primarily by their surnames."

"Then you may call me Monsieur Reneaux," he said without much confidence.

"I believe you are unaccustomed to being addressed in such a way, Monsieur Reneaux, but you shall have to become more familiar with it, for this is to be your coming out. It will change you and put you into a class as a great and gifted composer." Christine stated. "_Le Fantom_ is a thing of the past. We, neither of us, are ghosts anymore."

And with that Christine turned her face back to the fire and seemed to fall away from her reality once again. Her stare was blank, the colour was lost from her face and Erik took this silence as a signal that their meeting was over. He felt uncomfortable with the way she had been speaking, but her confidence in his ability was unlike anything he had experience before. What could she have planned for him? He would have to wait and find out in one weeks time when he returned to her house.


	5. Makeup like a Mask

Chapter Five: Makeup like a Mask.

The week passed slowly and Christine's illness persisted up until the very day that she had set as her next meeting with Erik. Her body was aging and the pain that covered her from head to toe was, at time, unbearable. There were days when she could not be warm and other when her body refused to move. Her hands would seize and her limbs would tremble and she worried that she would soon be unable to move all together. The fear of loosing her music pulled her into a terrifying depression. She was alone and turning into a cripple. Her tears flowed often, hot on her cheeks as she remembered a time when she could dance, but the cold was killing and winter was her enemy.

"I am to die alone," She sighed at the height of her illness, "and what have I to show for all of this suffering?"

But by the end of the allotted week, her pain had subsided and an abnormally warm wind chased the cold away from her house and brought the sun out. The drapes were cast aside and the sun warmed all of the room and Erik arrived punctually as ordered.

Philippe once again showed him into the music room where Christine had settled in to wait for him. She had placed herself at the piano and was learning the opera that he had brought her by heart. It had, though she would not sing any of the songs that were writing, brought great joy to hear those familiar melodies and to be able to see them in her minds eye as they were represented finally on parchment. He stopped in the door and watched as she played his music and his heart swelled with every movement she made. He hesitated before entering the room further but she had seen him out of the corner of her eye and beckoned him in.

"Come, we have much to do before we embark on a great journey. I have taken the liberty of setting up a formal meeting with the managers of the opera. You and I are to arrive in very high style and so we must make you look the part." She said as she stood and motioned for him to follow her.

Christine moved from one room to the next down the marble hall of her house. She led him into a room that had been opened up to all of the light and where roses as crimson as blood stood crowded into crystal vases. A large mirror was placed in the center of the room with tables of what looked like costume make up lay out upon them. There were wigs, shoes, glasses, everything that one might find in a dressing room all to be used on him and he was made to take a seat before it. He lowered his eyes to the floor, never daring to look at his own reflection, but as he sat Christine came to him and forced him to raise his eyes to her.

"I am going to make you look like a gentleman of my society." She said as she looked upon his disfigured face without hesitation. "You may feel some discomfort but that is to be expected."

"I have tried this before to no avail, why now do you think it will work?" he asked looking into her eyes.

"Because it has too," she answered and began first by cleaning his face.

As Christine worked, placing her hands on his face and feeling the holes and the bone, the rough skin and the scars she began to once again pity the man before her. He had given in to her will and was letting her be closer to him then he had ever done before. There once was a time when he would have pushed her away and stopped her from touching but there was desperation in his eyes. She smiled on him, trying desperately to bring him some relief but there was fear in his eyes and she would be forcing him to face them completely uncovered by the mask in which he had once taken refuge.

For several hours she worked and though the progress was slow, it was indeed progress. By the time she placed a full wig atop his head, the man before her was unrecognizable. Smooth skin, bright eyes and dark hair stared back at a man who had always seen himself as ugly and horribly deformed but staring back at him was symmetry, elegance and he even dared to believe handsomeness. The scars were somewhere beneath everything but as he hesitantly looked at himself in the great gilded mirror he could not see them.

"Well, Monsieur Reneaux, what do you think?" she asked as she stepped back and admired her work.

"I did not know you were an artist as well, Countess." He said, every moment bringing him more confidence.

"The Phantom is gone. You are now Monsieur Erik Reneaux, composer and maestro extraordinaire; I will need you to put on airs today." Christine stated. "Here are the cloths you will be wearing this afternoon, Philippe will help you on with them as I retire to my own dressing room." She added and moved to the door. "You must find a way to loose any resemblance of your self distress and make yourself quite confident before we are to leave. If they see your hesitance and your insecurity then they will walk all over you and we cannot have that."

"Indeed, you are quite right," he said as he glanced once again at the man staring back at him from the mirror. "This is the role I was born to play."

Christine smiled at him as she left the room, completely content with the outcome. What he did not know was that his handsomeness was not as far reaching as he thought. The structure of his face was regal, his eyes beautiful but his skin was marked with the scares of his youth and his years of seclusion had let the colour disappear from his face. There was a skeletal quality to his face but she believed that it was because of his slight build and with some exposure to more hearty meals he would fill out in some of the places that were the hardest to cover. "No one will recognize him, I can guarantee it," she said to herself as she moved on.


	6. A ride in silence

Chapter Six: A ride in silence.

Christine returned to the gentleman's dressing room once her own transformation was complete. All of the richness that her title could afford were now present in her dress and her embellishments. Diamonds sparkled against her skin as the gown was pulled and pinned to play off her figure and her hair cascaded all about her face in multitudes of curls. She wasn't the girl she had once been; running about the opera house in the limited attire of a ballet students, or even the woman of low income with whom a Viscount had courted, but she was a lady of the highest society, flaunting all of her richest and acting in a way that struck awe into the hearts of men. Erik glanced at her and could hardly recognize the woman he had once loved, or the woman whom he had just recently become acquainted with. This was a completely different woman and he wasn't quite sure how he felt about her.

Christine found Erik where she had left him, looking like a stranger in his new attire. He looked hesitant as she came in but her smile put him at ease. There was a glimmer of her former self behind all the glitter of her social status.

"I would believe you a gentleman if I were to see you on the street." She said as she stood with him before the mirror.

"Are you certain that I will fool them?" he asked.

"They have never really seen your face and without the mask I doubt very much that they will know its contours. No, they will not know you, but I must have to take on your same persona to bring back your confidence. I need the phantom that ruled over that place or you will not be taken seriously." She said. "You need to be poised, confident, and arrogant even if that is what it takes to make them believe that you are worth their time. You've worked all your life to be feared and revered in that opera house and now I have taken that all away from you and you must begin to rebuild. Can you do this?"

"I will do my best to make you proud." He said.

The carriage was ordered and as it came to the entrance Erik was struck again by the opulence which Christine kept. He had never ridden in a modern carriage let alone one of four horses and velvet seats. The chill of winter was still in the air but it did not bite as it had with the wind and storms had been upon them, and with their traveling garments wrapping them tightly in warmth Christine and Erik climbed into the carriage. He handed her in, as a gentleman ought, and followed her, taking a seat opposite her.

"Are you ready?" she asked just before the driver set the carriage in motion.

"I had better be," he said, "for I do not believe there is any escaping you now, countess."

"You are quite right." She stated and then with a sharp condescending voice ordered the driver to drive on. "Once you have fallen into this society there is no escaping it, even if you want to, it will haunt you and chase you down just to break your confidence and remind you that you should have never been admitted into it in the first place." She added more for herself then for him.

The carriage jerked into motion and a think silence fell between the two riders. Christine watched out the window as woods and lanes passed her by. This was one of the first times she had left her home since the death of her husband. Many things had changed for Christine in this short time but many things still remained the same. She was the terrified young woman that she had always been, but she had learned to be a fantastic actor and to keep the secrets that made up her life and her personality. People no longer knew Christine de Chagny, she was a mystery, but Christine Daae had never changed, or if she had, she had become more afraid of the terrible changes that were going on around her.

Erik watched her as her countenance did not change but she seemed deep in contemplation. She did not seem to see the beauty of the winter world, nor did she want to be apart of it. Her eyes were angry and jaded. He was filled with awe to be so finely dress, so respectable looking and so richly conveyed but he could see in Christine's looks and manners that she despised this place they had come too. Erik had never been privy to such opulence before and even though he had tried to give to himself the best that he could afford it was nothing like the openness richness can give and yet Christine seemed bored by it; she almost seemed to hate it. There was no excitement in her face as the country lanes changed to city streets. No recognition, of the monuments or building that had once been apart of her life, came into her eyes and she even seemed to fall farther away from herself as they pulled up before the grand opera house that had once been the location of all that had first passed between them.

The carriage stopped with a jerk, the street before the opera was busy and people turned to stare at the carriage that had pulled up. Not every day did a carriage quite like it, pull up during the week. Christine took a deep breath but did not break the silence and followed Erik out of the carriage.


	7. Une Grande Farce

Chapter Seven: Une Grande Farce.

The stares of the city people were unnerving to Erik as he stood and handed Christine out of the carriage. She stepped down and without being obvious of cuing him took hold of his arm and he escorted her up the stair and through the main doors of the opera house.

"I have never entered in this fashion before," he whispered to her as they passed into the grand foyer.

"Madame La Countess de Chagny!" The managers gasped together.

"Bonjour Gentlemen," She said haughtily, "At last we meet again." She smiled and allowed them to kiss her hands. "It is so good to see the old opera looking so much as I have once remember it." she smiled and shooed them away from her, pulling her hand back.

"And we are honored, no humbled, to have you're here with us!" Andre said as he bowed and then bowed again.

"Yes, yes, I am sure it is, but come; gentlemen we have business to discuss." Christine said holding her head high and motioning to the gentleman who stood beside her, "allow me to introduce to you Monsieur Erik Reneaux."

"It is a great pleasure Monsieur Reneaux." Firmin said with a bow.

"Indeed, a great honor!" Andre added bowing himself.

"The pleasure is all mine gentlemen," Erik said calmly.

"From our correspondence with la belle Countess, we understand you to be quite the master of music." Firmin said putting an end to Andre's foolishness.

"I do not care to boast, sir, but I am quite brilliant!" Erik stated.

"Indeed, he is and we have for you his first manuscript fully arranged and I wish to see it performed here. This season, I assure you I will come out for opening night." Christine smiled. "I am willing to completely fund the opera myself. I am that convinced that Monsieur Reneaux is the next Mozart."

"Madame that is such a grand offer but out season is already settled," Firmin stated, "we would be happy to present it in the future however."

"This does not please me in the least," Christine huffed.

"Now, Madame, it is kind of them to offer for perhaps next season," Erik said trying to agreeable.

"No, if this was ten years ago, these gentlemen would not have hesitated for the money that I offer. Or if indeed the phantom was not a figment of their imaginations, it would have been performed tomorrow." Christine said.

"Shh, Madame, the phantom is always watching," Andre hissed.

"Indeed, he cannot still be here," Christine stated. "He was but a man, I know, I was there."

"Oh but he is," Andre said shaking. "Always here, always lurking, box five is never empty."

"Please Monsieur, do not let Andre disturb you," Firmin stated as he pinched his companion.

"I have heard of this phantom, it is a rather fascinating story," Erik chuckled. "But is the Countess says that he is but a man, I have to believe it."

"You are a man of sense," Firmin smiled, "thank god for that."

"I assure you sir I am very sensible," Erik laughed.

"As am I," Christine stated, "so sensible, in fact, that if I say I am going to pull, from the opera, all of my funding you will be sensible to bend to my every whim."

"You are indeed out most wealthy supporter," Firmin agreed.

"I believe that you could more sensibly extend your current season to include a world premier." Christine said. "Especially if the money were to accompany the manuscript, for I wouldn't want to see you have to put an early end to the season if you could not afford to stage another opera this year."

Andre looked at Firmin with distress

"You are quiet correct, Madame," Firmin agreed.

"Splendid, then I shall hope to see _Les Miser de L'amour_ performed this season in this grand and world class facility?" Christine asked.

"Indeed," Andre stated, "so long as our opera ghost approves."

"He'll approve," Firmin hissed.

"If he does not, I shall write something new!" Erik chuckled.

"Monsieur Reneaux and I will return in a few weeks to see how progress moves along," Christine stated and turned toward the doors.

"Going so soon Christine Daae?" A woman hissed from above them.

"Oh good lord, are you still singing?" Christine asked in disrespect.

"I am La Carlotta!" the woman hissed, "I am perfection, and I do not perform in premiers!"

"Madame, it would be a great pleasure and an honor if you would simply cast an eye on my manuscript. I could not fathom someone of your renown singing my music," Erik said as he bowed to La Carlotta. "It would be too much! I am not worthy of such greatness."

"We'll Monsieur, because you are so very kind and know talent when you see it, I will look at it. Perhaps I will even change my mind," She said as she came down the stair and reached out her hand to him.

"I would be honored Madame," Erik said and kissed her hand. "To have such a prima donna as you sing my music. I should die a happy man!"

"You are too kind," She said flirtingly. "Perhaps we should discuss this role further; we do not need Christine's approval."

"I would be honored Madame, but I must confess myself indebted to Madame La Countess." He said. "I am committed to her for the remainder of this day and cannot in good conscience insult my good patroness."

"You are very wise and quite noble Monsieur," Firmin said butting into the conversations. "Carlotta is busy with rehearsals today anyways."

"Si, but I look forward to further consultations with you Monsieur!" Carlotta said with a wink toward Erik and flounced her way back up the grand stair case.

"She is lovely," Erik said with a smile.

"Indeed," Firmin smirked.

"We are late for our engagements," Christine stated impatiently, "we will be back to check on the progress of Monsieur's Opera." She added and grabbed hold of his arm and led him toward the doors.

"It was lovely meeting you both!" He said with a hasty bow and walked along with Christine.

The companions fell silent again as they reached the carriage and it was set well on its way out of the city and back to the country refuge which Christine longed to obtain. The airs that she adopted in public were exhausting and the mere sight of Carlotta made her miserable. She wanted nothing more then to shrink back into her house, close all the drapes and let the day fall away. Erik on the other hand was exceedingly amused by what had passed. None of the familiar personages of the theatre recognized him and his Opera was well on its way to being performed and without any of the pretexts of his former self. At last his name would be known as it ought to be known in the world of Opera.


	8. The Ghost Christine

Chapter Eight: The Ghost Christine.

The carriage carried them swiftly back to the estate, but not before the darkness of the winter night was able to close in around them. Christine pulled the hood of her cloak up around her face and disappeared into the shadows of the vehicle. To look at her made chills run down Erik's spine. He did not see the pretty, young woman he once loved but rather she was a presence completely difference. Beneath the dark cloak her skin looked to be as white as the snow, he features were harsh and her breathing was shallow. The hood of death had come to cloak this woman and she looked as grim as the presence that overcame her. He tried to fight back the shock of seeing his Christine as such a ghostly figure, he would have hardly recognized her and even feared what she would do if she were to lurk in the dark recesses of the theater. She was a ghost, a mere shadow of her self, and he did not like to look at her in this way.

The noise from the wheels on the hard, frozen ground was loud and the jerking of the carriage was uncomfortable. It would be a blessing to be back in the safety of the house. Erik prayed for the ride to be over. He was afraid of the presence that had settled itself around them and wanted nothing more than to escape the woman that sat directly across the carriage from him. She was fading away; the old Christine was nearly completely gone from the body that housed her soul. She looked at him from the shadows of her cloak and he saw he saw anger and fire burn behind her once beautiful eyes. She was nearly gone.

As the carriage pulled up Philippe stepped out of the main entrance, he watched as the gentleman handed Christine out of her ride and followed her up the stairs.

"You dinner is waiting, Madame," Philippe stated.

"Thank you," She whispered, "please show monsieur Reneaux into the dining room, I will be there directly." She added and swept past her butler.

Erik was taken aback by the assumption of a formal dinner with Christine but he would not argue. He followed the butler into the dining room where the table was laid out for the two of them and all the candles in the room were lit. The ominous painting of Christine loomed over the room and he could not help but turn his eyes toward it. His worst fears had been answered in a moment, not only did Christine ache like a ghost but she had accepted it as her future. The painting, in another time, would have been a flattering tribute to the times they spent together in the theatre but there was a difference in her eyes, the eyes of the painting, it was not love or happiness that filled the eyes of the elegant Phantom, but rather hatred and wrath.

Christine returned to him in a swift fashion, having changed from the gown she had been wearing for the farce and into a simpler more elegant evening dress. She took her place at the head of the table and Erik took the seat to her right. In this time he was forced to pull his eyes away from the painting that had hypnotized him into fear, and act the part of a gentleman.

"I hope you do not mind the inconvenience of taking a meal with me." Christine said as the first course was served.

"Not at all," he answered.

"I assumed that you would be hungry after the events of the day and I will pledge to help you remover the disguise once we are both refreshed from the exertion." She added.

"I am at you command, my lady," Erik said.

Christine watched him questioningly for a moment. She had witness his interest in the painting, in truth she had thought of him the whole time she sat for the painting, but though little of those day anymore. He had changed for her, long ago in her mind, and now he was proving that the changes were not just wishful thinking but rather the work of years of separation. His manners were much changed from what she remembered. She had never before seen him eat or drink but he seemed to be enjoying himself now. She knew the face that lay beneath the makeup that she had applied and yet she could still recognize him. The more she looked at him the more of his former self she could see.

Erik did the same to Christine as the silence and the meal fell between them. She had changed so much from the blooming young woman he had known. There was hatred in her reaction to people and he could tell that Raoul had jaded her. She was not the lively, carefree person she had once been and he wasn't sure that he liked to see her in such a way. She reminded him, strangely, of himself and the years he had spent cooped up in the shadows.

When their dinner was over Philippe returned to the dinning room and showed Erik back to the dressing room in which he had been installed earlier that day.

"My mistress will be up in a few moments," the butler said and the left the room once again.

Erik changed from the gentleman's clothing that Christine had provided; untying the cravat, removing the waistcoat and the tall boots being careful to not disturb the elegance of the new modern fashions. He then returned to his own, worn and dated attire before she entered the room. In silence she worked once again and layer after layer of makeup, powder and clay came away from his face. Once again he was returned to the monster he had been and more than ever he wished he had the mask with him to cover the ugliness that reappeared.

Christine however did not see the ugliness that he felt he possessed. The clean face wasn't as terrible and with less work then before she could make out where the scares had fades and where some had disappeared nearly completely. His skin had healed at one point, but with age the wrinkles of his skin started to add a completely different character to his person.

When all was finished Christine led the way once again to the music room where the chandelier had been lit and the fire burned brightly making the room and the grand piano glow. There was an inviting warmth that spread over her and the glow brought back some of the old Christine. She greeted her piano like an old friend and Erik could perceive in her eyes the happiness that she once had when she sang and was innocent at the Opera Populair, but the shadows followed her, they reached out to grasp at her gowns and pull at her hair. He wanted to retreat from the room but could not help but follow her into it.

"I would like to know your thoughts on the way today progressed," She said as she sat down at the piano and began to play something of her own creation.

"I was pleased with what was accomplished. I was shocked that even La Carlotta could have been fooled and I was concerned for you have changed a great deal from the young woman I once knew." He said honestly.

"We all change," She said softly, "some of us for the better, and some for the worst. I have many regrets in my life but I am trying to make myself invisible once again. Yes my money puts me in the way to be assaulted by society but I try very hard to stay as detached from it as I can."

"I am sorry I asked you to venture into the realm which you seem to despise so very much." Erik said softly.

"I can't stay cooped up here for the rest of my life," She sighed as she rose from the piano when the tea service was brought into the room by her butler. "Granted I do not care much for winter, it plagues me, but I will be happy to start a new season with the spring. Perhaps a trip to the opera will do me some good." She said as she handed him his tea and returned to the piano with her own.

"You do not sound very convinced of that." He said.

"You have ventured away from the opera house when you believed that you would stay there in the shadows forever, but I believe that today has given you hope of breaking that solitude and achieving greatness." She said, "I have to see the world the same way. I can't stay here by myself all the rest of my days, though at this time I wish I could. Something will change in me once I have recovered from the years of sorrow I have already lived through. My life has not been easy; in comparison to yours I would say we have come to be nearly equal in our misery."

"I have not always been miserable." Erik said.

"Nor have I," Christine stated.

"Why did you not fight your solitude?" He asked her.

"I am trying to do that now," She answered. "But, it is not a woman's place to act in that way. It is the curse of my gender and my station. To men I am a toy, a play thing, a caged bird to sing to them, but when I have outlived my usefulness I am unwanted. I was not useful to Raoul and so I was discarded. On the outside I was a bobble for him to parade around but inside these walls I was a shadow, a ghost of the woman I was. I have acted today to try and secure my own future, some form of independence but I know that I should not hope for much, I will always be a woman in the eyes of those who wish to rule over me. I was foolish in my behaviour today. It was a farce to see if I could be someone completely different from who I am and what people have for so long believed to be the true Christine. No one knows me anymore, nor do I want them to because I want to be a completely different person."

"I know you," He stated as he put his cup down on the tray, "you are sad, broken, caged and very much afraid that the world will hurt you again. I feel sorry for you Christine de Chagny." He said and took his leave of the woman at the piano.

Christine watched him leave. She was not sorry to see him go and yet she did not want him to leave. She followed him into the foyer and watched as her staff avoided his eyes and shrunk away from him. The only man in the building who did not show fear was Philippe; he bowed to the man and spoke kindly. He treated him as a gentleman ought to be treated and then, just before Erik turned to leave he returned his gaze to the two of them who stood alone now in the hall. He tipped his hat to them. Philippe bowed again and Christine curtsied and then Erik Reneaux disappeared into the darkness of the winter night.


	9. With Winter's End

Chapter Nine: With Winter's End.

Winter seemed to last for decades, but it did pass away. There wasn't much to be done once the assurance the opera were be performed came to Christine. The preparations were being made to cast and begin rehearsals, but the other operas of the season were already underway and so this would be fit in toward the end. Christine was pleased enough with this news but was not sure what Erik would think, he would know more about it than she did, as he still resided in the depths of the theatre, but he may not know the particulars of what was happening. Christine fashioned, in that time, the first of many correspondences she would have sent to the phantom of the opera, all addressed in the same way. The only person she trusted enough with the truth of her visitor was her butler and so he was the trusted party that would bring the news and return with it.

The letters were all Christine saw of Erik after their first outing to the opera house. He had not tried to return, sent his excuses in his letters but remained hidden away for the duration of the winter. He was pleased with the work that had already taken place at the theatre and although there had once been a time when he would have fussed over his productions and all that was involved; he left this one to chance. Christine was lucky enough to hear from him of the improvements made but never any demands came to her. She relayed all of her information to him and in return he sang the praises of the imbeciles that continued to manage the affairs of the opera house.

In this time of separation Christine suffered greatly. Her body ached from the cold, her fingers would seize, her head would ache and there were many days she spent either too close to the fire for any true comfort or locked away in her room. She wanted someone to care for her and though Philippe and the house staff were doting enough upon her, she would not tell anyone else of the way she suffered, because of this, those who did try to make any contact believed her to be rude and unfeeling as she always declined any invitations, sent money and gifts but never ventured out herself. She wept in sorrow and in pain as she felt her youth melting away from her and knew that her life would not be that of comfort. Her depression worsened with every day she could not play at her instruments due to the pain in her joints and we wished for nothing more then the gentle kiss of death to take the pain away from her body.

With winter's end, came the absolute need to return to the opera house. The gentlemen that had taken up the cause were anxious for the composer's opinions on the way his opera was progressing and begged that he return. Christine did her best to convince him and though he seemed to want to avoid any such attention again, he agreed and the date was set. Early in March he returned to the Countess. He traveled early in the morning, long before the sun rose, and entered her house in shadow. He was welcomed graciously by Philippe and made comfortable in the music room where he waited in a state of nervous anticipation for Christine to join him.

When she finally joined him he could not hold back the shock he felt upon seeing her. Her face was pail, her eyes looked sunken in, she was covered from head to toe in heavy fabric and her body was deteriorating to nothing.

"I am afraid, sir, that you find me unwell," She whispered her voice hardly present.

"What has happened to you?" he asked as he rushed to her side.

"The cold has affected me very poorly this winter," she confessed.

He reached out and without regard to propriety he took her hands. They trembled in his and were as cold as ice. Pulling her to him he held her closely and felt the chill of her body through his clothing.

"I fear, sir, that I will be unable to make the applications of your makeup. I have instructed Philippe and I hope that he will be able to replicate my former results." She whispered marveling at the warmth that she felt from him.

"Forget my face," Erik whispered, "I should not wish to go if you are unwell."

"We must," she said looking up at him.

The eyes of Christine had changed once again and the look of them chilled Erik to the core. The colour was completely gone from them; where once there was a blue like the sky, now resided a grey as dark as the clouds. Her eyes were filled with tears, which spoke of her fears and her sorrows. The rings around her eyes were deep and dark and her skin was ashen. She had lost too much weight and he could hardly feel her in his arms. His beautiful Christine had melted away and the realization of this horrific face was evident in her face.

"You are in pain," he said after a long silence. "I can see it in your eyes."

"I have been in pain this whole winter," Christine said as the tears began to flow, "I have never felt it as horribly and as constantly as I do now. My hands have seized, my limbs are numb. I cannot be bothered most days to move from my bed. I believe, I fear, I am dying." She whispered. "I apologies that I have caused you so much inconvenience, but I believe I will have to impose on you some more and I must send you to the Opera Populair on your own today."

"I will not go without you," he said as he moved her closer to the fire and looked at the old woman who had in mere months taken over her body.

"You must, it is your last chance at redemption. Go, see your production in the works and give them all of your opinions on how much more grand it could be. I will lend you my Philippe, he will act as your own gentleman, and then you may return and tell me of the beauty that has taken over the stage because of your brilliance."

"You cannot be without your most trusted gentleman, I cannot go, I will not," Erik stated.

"Please," Christine pleaded, "I would not ask anything else of you, but I must ask that you go and bring back to me the music that I have lost. I cannot continue on with you, I'm afraid, but I wish to know that everything is running according to our plan. Please, please bring back news of the music."

Erik felt his heart melt; never before had anyone been so sincere or so in need, that they had asked him to help. He could not let Christine down and yet he was agitated. The thoughts that had filled his mind months before, the anger and the loss he felt at witnessing the change in her presence, it had been an omen of what was to come, and he had turned his back on her. He, the man who had vowed to never forget Christine Daae, to always love her and protect her, was the man who had left her alone, abandoned once again and all that she had done was give of herself to better his situation.

Emotion choked him, he could not speak to her as she sat there pleading with him with her eyes. He stood, straight and determined, bowed to the poor woman and walked out of the room. Philippe met him in the hall and they prepared for the journey of the day.


	10. Stepping Out

Chapter Ten: Stepping Out.

The two men worked silently together as they made the phantom a young and handsome man. He had always had the confidence of someone that should be in the spotlight but his deformities had always hindered him. His presence, his manner of speaking and his mind were all made for high and intelligent society, but his face was the stuff of nightmares. With these transformations, hours of makeup and clay molded his face into that of the man that matched his personality. His dress was more regal and proud, that of a baron or a count, he ran his fingers through the light hair of the wig and once again looked at a man in the mirror he did not know. Philippe had also changed his appearance. He no longer wore the uniform of his position with the de Chagny family but rather dressed as a gentleman's gentleman and assumed the countenance and the airs of a servant who also acted as confidant and second to the gentleman he served.

The carriage was ordered to the front of the grand house, but before they departed both men went in search of the poor invalid that sent them away on their errand. Erik spotted her first as he walked into the music room. She had moved from her place near the fire and had taken up her seat at the piano. No music was produced from her fingers. The room remained in complete silence and as he moved closed to her he realized that she was crying.

"Everything I have loved, I have lost," she whispered through her tears, "I do not even have strength enough to coax a few notes from this magnificent instrument."

"Do not worry, I will play as long as you like once I am returned," he said as he helped her up and moved her back to the fire, "you must rest now, warm yourself."

"I wish you luck," she said as she reached out and touched his face.

The chill of her hand penetrated through the makeup and he shivered with the cold that he felt from her.

"I will return," he said and kissed the palm of her hand.

"Thank you," she said and sank into the silence of the dark and desolate room.

Erik walked dutifully across the foyer and out of the manner house. Philippe followed him closely but did not say a work until the carriage was well on its way.

"How long has your mistress been in such a state of ill health?" he asked the man who sat opposite him in the carriage.

"It has been gradual, sir," Philippe answered, "her degeneration has been slow but I believed it started not long after her late husband withdrew his affection from the relationship."

"Why do you not call him your master?" Erik asked.

"He was never my master, sir," Philippe stated, "I have worked for my mistress for ages. I was her fathers butler, I knew her as a child. I was a very young man then, and very lucky in my situation. When my master died, I followed Miss Christine to the opera house but I did not take up residence there. I remained a servant of hers. When she removed with Raoul I was hired by her once again. I served only my mistress as her husband had his own servants. Madame has never possessed a ladies maid; I have been her one true servant."

"And are you privy to all of her secrets?" Erik asked.

"I am sir; I believe I am the only one that she trusts explicitly." Philippe confessed. "I know all about you."

"And her health, what is her diagnosis?" Erik asked ignoring the idea of his being a secret of Christine's.

"The physicians believe it to be degenerative, but they cannot say exactly what it is. It has affected everything in her life, but most unfortunately it affected her ability to truly be a wife to the Count. She could never bare him children and so he lost interest in my mistress." Philippe confessed.

"Without an heir the count would be nothing," Erik stated.

"He was a man of independent means, had he wished it he could have procured and heir." Philippe stated and Erik could see the rage in the man's eyes.

"But he did not?" Erik asked.

"He did not live long enough, lord knows he tried and he broke my mistress's heart in the process. He cared little for her degeneration, and though that Christine would surpass him on her way to the grave." Philippe stated, "I am glad to know of her redemption in becoming the soul beneficiary of all the Count's money for he did not believe he would have to revise his final will and last testaments and so my mistress was the one to gain everything. She believes herself cursed however, she didn't want his money, nor did she wish to remain where she is but her condition is too bad, and I fear that her condition is most severe now. I have never seen it this bad before, she is in constant pain, never warm, and moves very little. I do not believe there is much left to be done for her."

"She is a ghost of her former self," Erik said and looked out into the wilderness that passed them on their way.

"She wishes to live to see the spring bring beauty back to her secret garden," Philippe said. "I try, desperately it seems, to keep her hopes up but I fear even my prayers go unheard."

Erik road on in silence contemplating the distress and the degeneration that the man before him had witness; had he known he would have come to Christine years before in earnest attempts to give her comfort and happiness. He could have lurked through the great house and never been seen by that scoundrel Raoul. He could have protected her, given her happiness in her loneliness. He had turned his back and now would have to live with the idea that Christine was not much longer for this world.


	11. The Opera Populair

Chapter Eleven: The Opera Populair.

Fermin and Andre waited on the grand stairs as Erik walked proudly into the foyer followed closely by Philippe. He made his way swiftly toward them and followed as the showed him through the opera. They moved about mechanically telling him about every nook and every hall, completely unaware of the man who was walking with them. Erik found it had not to laugh at the idea of not being recognized and yet he was awed by the amount of respect and over exaggerated prestige the two managers gave up so freely.

"I hope you are not offended sir," Andre started the conversation again, "but I must tell you just how enamored we are with this opera. It is unlike anything any of us have ever heard before and it is such a shame that it was not performed sooner."

"I thank you sir for your kindness," Erik said politely, but his thoughts were with Christine.

"The orchestra raves about the arrangements and the attention to detail and instrumental virtuosity that you've written," Fermin added, "Our ballet mistress adores the passages that she had been choreographing and the singers, especially La Carlotta, are ecstatic with the vocal and the understanding of ranges that you have set. We, Andre and myself, don't know as much of the musical as we would like but the plot is brilliant, very much a flash back to the true Opera Grande that this magnificent theater was meant for." He stated proudly.

"And, our opera ghost is pleased, he has left us many congratulations on our acquisition of your talents," Andre said proudly.

"It was my most adamant wish that your ghost would be pleased," Erik said mockingly. "No composer in their right mind would insult the great phantom." He added with a laugh.

"It is very serious business, monsieur," Andre said with a hushed seriousness that amused Erik immensely, "have you not heard of the affairs of the Phantom of the Opera?"

"Would you hush?" Fermin said, his face flushed with embarrassment.

"It is not a problem, monsieur," Erik said jovially as he smiled at Fermin, "I am aware of the stories of this opera house and I do take it as a great compliment that I have made some little music that may be amusing to your ghost. I assure you that I do believe in the presence in this theater, and I would do nothing to upset the balance."

"We are exceedingly please to hear that sir," Andre said, relief visible on his face.

Erik walked on again letting the manager babble as they visited the Ballet hall and he was bombarded with question from the young girls who once were terrified of him, but now flirted with him exceedingly. "What a handsome face can do," he whispered to himself as the ladies flounced around.

Suddenly he caught the eye of the Madame of the ballet hall and saw in her face the start recognition that he had hoped to betray. Andre and Fermin called her over to them and introduced Erik Reneaux to a woman who knew him all too well.

"We are much honored to have your creation before us," Madame Giry stated following the concern in his eyes and need for secrecy.

"I am happy to hear that you have enjoyed the task of choreographing. I am excited to see what you have prepared and hope that we will soon take to the theatre proper to view some of your hard work." Erik said smiling to everyone around him.

The ladies of the ballet giggled and pranced around as his eyes traveled around the room.

"We would be honored to take you down to the orchestra pit immediately," Fermin stated.

"But not before we deal with out press obligations," Andre said as he tugged on Fermin's sleeve.

"I do not with to be bored with the press obligations if I can avoid them," Erik said with a mock yawn, "I would much prefer to sit in on rehearsals. If you gentlemen are too busy I will show myself into the theatre proper and will not be in anyone's way. I am filled with excitement to see just how far the show has come." He stated.

"Of course, it you are not opposed to our being absent for a short time, we will hand you over to Madame Giry who will surely show you the best seats in the house." Fermin stated as the ballet mistress looked at him with annoyance in her eyes.

"I do not wish to be of any inconvenience to anyone," Erik smiled.

"It will not be an inconvenience, we are moving along with our rehearsals as planned." Fermin stated, "Madame, take your girls to the stage. It is nearly time for their rehearsal avec the orchestra!"

Madame Giry bowed to the managers and then turned to her girls. They were ordered off with many moans and sad looks to the gentlemen that remained with their mistress but they followed ordered and disappeared into the secret recesses of the theatres working areas.

"Please follow me, monsieurs," Madame Giry stated and she walked off through the grand foyer and into the theatre itself.

Erik stood for a moment observing the theatre from a place he had never really seen it. He had never sat on the orchestra level while a rehearsal happened. He had never seen visible within the room with all of the house lights lit and he was never flirted with as he was in that moment. Many of these new experiences made him uncomfortable and he wished for the privacy of the box he was used to occupying.

Erik motioned for Philippe to have a seat while Madame Giry once again summoned him to her. She walked into a little shadowy alcove that was just hidden from view of the rest of the theatre before she spoke.

"Why are you going to such troubles to have a work performed?" she asked looking into his eyes. This woman saw through all of the make up and looked deep into the secret recesses of his soul.

"Because I need to have my music praised," Erik stated, "it is all I have left. I do not want this work or any work I may write in the future to be tainted by my reputation. I want people to know my real name and to understand that I am a great composer."

"This never bothered you before," She said skeptically, "and why do you bring Christine's servant with you."

"Nothing escapes your notice, does it?" he asked.

"Indeed it does not," Madame Giry stated.

"Christine is dying," Erik whispered now.

"And why is that any concern of yours?" Giry asked.

"Because she is my primary patron in this musical endeavor," Erik confessed.

"You swore that you would never bother her again," Giry said angrily. "I see what you are doing Erik, and I am very disappointed in you. I believed that you had changed."

"I have changed," he whispered, "and if you saw, if you knew of her suffering, you would do everything in your power to help Christine as well. I am only trying to give her peace in her last days and hope that I may be forgiven in return."

"You want to be famous!" Giry said.

"I am already famous, for all the wrong reasons. I only want to bring some enjoyment to the world." He confessed. "When this is over I will continue to live out my days quietly lurking through this theater. When Christine is gone what will there be left for me?"

"You have gone through enough trouble to disguise yourself that I have to believe you are sincere but I do not want to see anything else as horrific as the past happen in this place." Madame Giry stated forcefully.

"Nor do I," Erik said lowering his eyes.

"Then I will release you to your enjoyment for now," Giry stated and quickly turned and walked away.

Erik returned to where Philippe sat and settled his nerves by silently listening to the orchestra tuning.

"She knows, doesn't she?" Philippe asked.

"She does," Erik confessed.

"She has always had a way of finding out the truth," Philippe added as the ballerinas took to the stage, "she notices everything."

"That she does," Erik chuckled, "as do you it seems."

The rehearsal was spectacular. Form his place within the theater he could feel the energy of the performers as they tried their best to please him. He had seen other rehearsal but none of them had the same energy as it did now. He was shocked to see and feel the difference and he took great pride and pleasure in watching his work preformed as it ought to be performed.

Erik and Philippe stayed through most of the rehearsal before having their carriage ordered again. Erik expressed his pleasure at the quality of the performance and gave many gracious words of thanks to all involved. Andre and Fermin were very pleased with his smiles and his generosity and followed him dutifully as he moved to exit to the building.

"We hope that upon your next visit you will bring with you our lovely patroness. We hoped that she would be with you once again today." Fermin stated just before reaching the entrance.

"Countess de Chagny wished to be with us today, but, unfortunately, she became ill," Erik stated visibly concerned. "I am sure she will attempt to be with us on our next visit." He added with his best smile.

"We send our regards," Andre said as he bowed to the gentlemen, "and we look forward to seeing you again often during this time of preparation. We are nearly ready for the spring debut. It is a very exciting time for us."

"Indeed, so are we," Erik smiled and took his leave.

Once in the carriage contemplation fell over the gentlemen once again.

"you are annoyed by those men," Philippe stated after a lengthy silence.

"They always have," Erik sighed, "I try very hard to be patient with them, but they are fools, both of them."

"I would have to agree," Philippe stated.

"My opera house should not be plagued with such men," Erik added.

"It is a shame sir, but they certainly cannot stay on forever," Philippe said trying to be optimistic.

"I hope you are correct in that assessment," Erik smiled and fell into silence again.


	12. The Suffering

Chapter Twelve: The Suffering.

Upon their return Christine exerted herself long enough to take tea with the gentlemen before they returned to their original states. She was pleased to hear of the folly that was taking place at the theater and was a bit dismayed by the confession of Madame Giry's recognition. She had not thought that even someone as familiar with Erik as she was would see through his disguise but she realized that if it were to be anyone at all that must know, it was the ballet mistress; who had always been an ally and a very trusted personage at the theater.

As the afternoon turned to evening and Erik and Philippe returned to their normal states, Erik returned to the music room to which Christine had retired and though she did not speak, he set himself at the piano and began to play for her. The music seemed to calm her spirits and sooth her pain for the time being and as long as he could see the noticeable difference in her, he would not stop playing.

Late in the evening Philippe opened the door to the music room and was admitted by request. He was followed by a stately woman dressed all in black and familiar to both present.

"Madame, what brings you here?" Erik asked as he seceded his playing and rushed to her.

"I have come to see for myself what you felt necessary to tell me." Giry whispered looking about the room.

Christine continued to sit near the fire, she was bundled from head to toe and as the guess was announced she tried to stand to great her. her struggle was evident and Erik rushed to her aid.

"Please, Madame, do not get up," Madame Giry stated seeing the figure she had once know crippled by the passing of time.

"I am sorry I am not prepared to greet you Madame," Christine whispered through her embarrassment, "I was not expecting you."

"I apologies for such an intrusion Madame, I did not mean to cause any alarm. I was simply concerned as Erik mentioned your illness and I wished to be of service to you." Giry stated and watched as Erik gently helped Christine settle once again.

"You have been a great help in the acceptance of Erik's work." Christine whispered, "My sources tell me that the rehearsals are going very well and that the enjoyment of the work is great among many who are part of this cast." Christine said trying to put the old woman at ease.

Madame Giry watched Christine struck by the extent of the illness. Upon her setting out to come and make this call, Madame Giry believed that Erik had been over exaggerating when he said that the young woman, a woman much younger than herself, was in such pour health as to merit a person believing her near death, but now that she looked on the sad skinny figure and saw that the dancer and the singer had left that shell of a body, Madame Giry too became concerned and frightened for what seemed inevitable.

"It is my pleasure to be working on such a grand opera," Madame Giry stated as she fought back tears.

"Might you like to hear some of the music?" Christine asked the old woman.

"Indeed," Giry smiled and Erik returned to his place at the piano.

The music swelled in the cozy room and Madame Giry saw the noticeable change in the woman that sat as an invalid before her. Christine managed to smile, her eyes were bright with the joy of the music but her body was still. The young woman that she had known was only present in her face; the rest of her body betrayed her and she looked older than the ballet mistress that sat by her side.

"Forgive me for asking, but are you in pain?" Giry asked softly never looking away from Christine.

"Constantly now," Christine whispered. "Most days I do not move from this chair. I have lost most of the use of my hands. My body is always chilled."

"How did this happen?" the elderly woman asked as tears welled up in her eyes.

"It has been gradually building for years," Christine said with a sigh, "once I was no longer dancing, my body started to degenerate. I have not been the same since I left the opera." She confessed.

"You are like and old woman," Giry whispered.

"Indeed I am," Christine sighed, "but I have two gentlemen that have come to my aid. Philippe has been my companion and a great asset all of my life and Erik has brought joy back into my life. I cannot be ungrateful for the things that have come to me in this my invalid state."

"I confess, I did not believe him when he told me of your condition," Giry said as she lowered her eyes.

"If there were any person in the world that would not lie to you, it is Erik Reneaux." Christine said. "You must learn to trust him."

Erik felt the full weight of her words from his place at the piano and a great pain filled his heart. She had forgiven him long ago for what he had done. She trusted him over most people and was ready to stand up for him and his case despite his horrific past and his deformities and yet he had been unable to stand up for her and protect her as he had wished. He vowed in that moment, as he sat silently at the piano playing for the joy of this poor invalid that he would not leave her again until he was forced to say goodbye the final time.


	13. The new duties of the opera Ghost

Chapter Thirteen: The new duties of the opera Ghost.

Erik left the piano only to see Madame Giry out. He had first asked permission of Christine and once she had given her consent and bid him return he saw the old woman out. Madame Giry stopped him in the foyer as Philippe brought her cloak; her eyes spoke of her regrets and her remorse for the poor young woman behind the music room door.

"What is to be done for her?" Madame Giry asked nearly in a frantic panic.

"We can do nothing but make her comfortable." Philippe answered as the sadness came into Erik's face.

"And do you remain here?" She asked addressing Erik.

"I do not," He said, "This is my first day in knowing the true powers of her illness. I was as shocked as you when I returned to her house this morning to find her in such a state. I believed her to be depressed when I first came to her and after our first appearance at the opera house I was convinced that time had changed Christine in a way that I was not pleased to see. I avoided her for most of the winter months, communicating only by letter." He confessed.

"This winter has been one of the worst for Madame," Philippe stated. "If she makes it to late spring and early summer we may see some change in her but as things are going I fear that she may not be alive to feel the healing warmth of the sun."

"I feel like I could have saved her from her pain had I not let my pride blind me," Erik said sadly.

"There was nothing any of us could do monsieur, do not blame yourself," Philippe said compassionately.

"I hope to make amends, and be of service to her as much as I can be now," Erik added with a weak smile to the dutiful butler.

"I am sure my mistress would appreciate the company," Philippe smiled.

"I will return often, if your mistress would with is," Madame Giry said as she reached out and shook the butler's hand, "please contact me at any time."

"Thank you Madame, I will," Philippe smiled.

"And as for you," She said turning to Erik, "I am sorry I doubted you. Take her to your heart once more and do all that you can. My heart breaks for her, my only wish are that she may be able to see one last performance in a place where she knew happiness and that spring may come as quickly as possibly to this house plagued by winter."

"I pray for the same things," Erik confessed.

Madame Giry left the two gentlemen standing together in the foyer. The looked at each other for a moment seeming to know what the other was thinking and turned away from each other at the same time. Erik returned to Christine in the music room. He took his placed at the piano and continued to play until Philippe entered with a ladies maid.

"I believe Madame that a bath, a very hot one, may do you some good before you retire for the evening." Philippe said as he knelt down before Christine.

"You have always known what is best," She whispered and tried to stand but failed.

"Allow me," Erik stated as he moved close to her and picked up her feather light body in his arms.

Erik followed Philippe and the little maid up the grand stairs and into a room that was set out for Christine's comfort. Rose petals perfumed the room as a copper tub sat near the fire and steaming water issued from it. Erik placed her on a chaise before he straightened and backed away.

"I'll come back when you're finished if you need me," He said to Philippe and left the room.

Erik paced at the base of the stairs for what seemed like an eternity before Philippe and the little maid exited their mistress's room. Philippe came directly down the stairs as the maid orchestrated the removal of the bath things and the two of them watched as buckets of water and the copper tub were paraded along the second level.

"She is resting comfortably," Philippe stated once the other servants were all gone. "She wished, however, to speak with you." He added and with a nod Erik climbed the stairs.

The room was darker than it had been. The lights had been shut off but the candles still burned by Christine's bed side. She looked completely different in the darkness. The soft glow of the candles and the white covers of the bed made her look almost angelic as Erik moved cautiously through the darkness.

"You need not lurk here," Christine whispered.

"I'm sorry," Erik said as he came and sat on the edge of her bed.

"I am sorry you had to see me like this," Christine said sadly. "I know it is not what you dreamed for me."

"I could have never known that such a horrific disease would come over you. I am sorry I have been so neglectful." He said.

"It's not your fault. I left you," Christine said, "I didn't give you any reason to seek me out, or to show me any kindness and my behavior to you when you did reappear was not very lady like and I apologies." She said.

"Please don't," he whispered and took her icy hands in his.

"You are so warm," she whispered.

Removing his shoes and his shirt he pulled back her blankets and crawled into the bed beside her. He pulled her tiny, brittle body to him and had to fight the chill that came over him. She was so altered from the woman he had know, he had fallen in love with and yet he could not help but feel that fire that once burned so ardently in his heart. But here, in this bed he felt the reality of this situation; she was dying, fading away and was unhappy.

Christine cuddled into his arms. She could feel warmth that had long ago left her and as she shut her eyes she felt her body relax next to his. She had long been desperately longing for human contact. Raoul had pulled away from her so long ago that she had forgotten the warmth that the human body could possess. Erik's body was strong, muscular and yet gentle and warm. She felt protected in his arms. She could feel the passion of his love radiating off of his body and she realized that she had always treated this man unfairly. He had always loved her, truly, madly, deeply, and was prepared now to show her compassion even though her life was nearing its end. She struggled with her emotions. All at once she felt unworthy of such a man. 'Why would he choose to love me still when I can give him nothing in return' she asked herself as she pulled him closer.

"I regret ever leaving you," she whispered as sleep began to come to her.

"A life of darkness was never a life for such a beautiful creature. Please do not hold onto your regrets," Erik whispered and blew out the candles on the bed side table.


	14. A new day

Chapter Fourteen: A new day.

Erik awoke with a start as the sun began to poor into the house. For years he had dwelled in darkness and had never seen the sun rise. Christine lay by his side as the golden light, bright and new, washed over the room. She was sleeping soundly, her hands were warm and her face looked calm, and so he moved slowly from the bed. He had wondered what it would be like to wake beside someone; to live normally enough to see the sunrise out of a window and look out on a world that he wasn't used to. He realized that winter was retreating as he stepped in front of the window and looked out at the world below. The glass was still dead and brown, but there wasn't any snow and soon there would be new growth as the sun began to awake everything that slept.

He moved slowly and silently around the room, taking his shirt and throwing it over his shoulders as the chill of the morning and the removal from the warm bed began to sink in. he replaced his shoes and moved out into the dressing room that joined to Christine's bed room. There he was surprised to find that some on the clothing he had been used to wearing around Christine had been laid out for him and a tray with water and soap was placed on a side table. Philippe walked into the room suddenly and startled him.

"I should go," Erik said embarrassed by the state of affairs. He had never done this before and didn't know what he was supposed to do.

"My lady would not have it," Philippe smiled, "change your cloths, and wash yourself before she awakes, then come down for breakfast in the morning room. There is a news paper for you and coffee if you should like it. Madame will certainly not sleep much longer, but it is good that she slept through the night. You were good for her. She has not slept well in months." He said.

"And where is the morning room?" Erik asked still feeling the awkwardness of the strange place and the inability to go through the motions of his usual routine.

"The morning room is at the bottom of the stairs and to the left. It faces full east and so the sun is very bright in that space. Madame enjoys it. She says that it is the most cheerful room in the whole house." Philippe answered and left.

Erik did his best to make himself presentable. A little maid had entered the room when he was leaving and took his soiled clothing from him. He was reluctant to let her take them but in the end he was convinced by the girls pleading that it was her job and that she would be scolded if everything was not done as Philippe had instructed. He found his way down to the bright morning room and could not help by smile. The room was very well lit and all of the drapes had been pulled back to look out over the woods that surrounded the estate. At the far end of the room Erik could see another door. This door lead into the green house that Christine had added to the manner house and it was full of reds and pinks as the roses that she kept there were in full bloom. The coffee on the table steamed and the aroma of it filled the space. There were also fresh fruits that had been grown in some of the other green houses and pastries that even Erik did not recognize. There were rolls and croissants piled high on silver platters and chocolate in bowls for who knew what.

Erik stared at the food for a long time before he settled into one of the seats and Philippe entered as if he had been lurking and watching.

"Is there anything that you do not see that you would be interested in?" Philippe asked.

"There is more here then I am normally used to. I can't decide as it is," Erik confessed.

"My mistress prefers eggs in the morning, may I fix you some?" Philippe asked as he poured coffee.

"No thank you, what is here will do just fine," Erik said and watched as Philippe bowed out of the room.

Rarely was Erik lucky enough to obtain a morning news paper, but today it was laid out for him. He treated himself to a breakfast of delicacies, sipped his coffee and read through every last word of the paper. The brightness of the room made him cheerful and the comfort that he found in Christine's home began to feel familiar and welcome. It was not dark and damp here. There was no chill of the night, or confusion as to the hour or the weather. He could see everything out the windows and for the first time he felt happiness in the house. It was a well furnished room, clearly a favorite for Christine and smelled of fresh coffee that tempted him to have a second cup.

Within the hour Christine was escorted into the morning room by Philippe. She was dressed warmly and walked slowly but, she walked and a smile had crossed her face when she saw that Erik was still with her. She took her place at the head of the table, was given a cup of coffee and sent away for to fetch her preferred food items.

"I hope everything is to your liking," She said politely from her place next to Erik.

"I have been very spoiled this morning," Erik answered, "I'm not used to so many delicacies."

"I would imagine that you are not used to a beautiful morning like this either," she smiled cheerfully.

"No, I am not," he answered.

Erik was shocked at the change that had come over Christine over night. It was clear that a weight had been lifted from her. She still appeared very weak and moved quite slowly but her countenance had changed and her gloom had melted away to cheerfulness.

"I hope you are feeling well this morning," Erik said after a long time of watching her interact with her servants.

"I do," Christine smiled, "I am not as cold as I have been used to being, and the pain isn't as horrible. I believe I may even play my piano or my harp for a short time today."

"I am glad to hear it," he said and offered to pour her some more coffee.

"Although I don't believe I am yet well enough to go out into the wilderness, it is probably still too cold, I insist that you take the air. Philippe will have horses saddled and ready for you, if you would like a tour of the estate. He knows these lands as well as I do and would be happy to take you around to see it all." Christine said.

"But do you not need your gentleman for your own comfort?" Erik asked, concert on his face.

"Once I have been settled into my music room, I am sure that I will be quite fine on my own." Christine giggled, "I am sure I can spare him for a few hours on one of my good days, just as I did for a few hours on one of my worst days."

"Then you are not always as bad as you were yesterday?" Erik asked.

"No," Christine said, "day's like that come on gradually and they leave me even more gradually. I am not at my best right now, I will admit, though my cheerfulness is unlike I have known for quite some time. I am very happy to have you here and I believe I will pass today in relative comfort. Tomorrow may even see me even better."

Erik's heart leapt when he heard her admit to being cheerful because of his presence. He had always wanted to know that feeling, to be of use in some positive way to another person and so long as she wished for him to be with her, he would stay. There wasn't much, he realized, waiting for him back at the opera house, but there was happiness and cheerfulness to be had here.

"Then I will agree to a ride about your grounds, if you will do me the honor of sitting with me for tea." He said acting the gentlemen.

"I believe sir, that as a good hostess, it is my obligation to entreat you to stay for tea," Christine giggled, "I will go farther and request that you stay as long as you like. I would be pleased to have you dine with me tonight and I hope that you would be so kind as to tell me all of the news on the performance as I was too much of an invalid to hear it yesterday." She added.

"It would be an honor, Madame," Erik smiled.

"Then it is settled," Christine said, "you will stay with me another day."

Shortly after the conversation Christine stood, shaking and still rather weakly, and moved away from the table. Instinctively Erik followed her and offering her his arm, she took it and led the way out of the morning room and toward the music room.

The music room was also much more cheerful then it had been in the several occasions that Erik and Christine had been within it. The drapes were pulled back and the sun kissed every wall. The fire had been lit and burned calmly at the hearth as the smell of fresh flowers filled the air.

Christine moved toward the piano as Philippe entered and waited for his instructions. She sat down and placed her hands on the keys and for a moment played a simple melody.

"Yes, I believe I shall do quite fine today Philippe," Christine smiled from her place.

"Very good Madame, but please I implore you, do not over exert yourself. Yesterday was a very bad day." Philippe said and Erik watched as the older man fussed about the room.

"I when I am tired I will stop," Christine said with a smile, "I promise."

"That's my girl," Philippe smiled lovingly.

"Would you be so kind Philippe, as to take Monsieur Reneaux on a tour of the estate? It is looking like it may be quite a lovely day and I am sure that my old friend has not yet seen the extent of my lands." Christine said.

"It would be a pleasure, Madame," Philippe answered and bowed out of the room.

"He will return for you shortly," Christine smiled, "for now, would you care to sit with me a while and play?" she asked.

"I would," Erik smiled and sat down.

Christine managed to catch his eyes as he smiled and for a moment she saw the handsomeness in all of his features. The scares and deformities were washed away by the pleasure in his eyes and the smile that shaped his face into a completely different look. Christine was learning very quickly that there was far more beauty in this man than she had once believed and that his ugliness was only skin deep. She felt a debt of gratitude come over her and she knew that from now on Erik would not be the man of her nightmares but the man of her hopes and her dreams. She had learned early on in her marriage to Raoul that dreams were sometimes so over exaggerated and so unbelievably that sometimes it was better to hope for goodness and peace rather than riches and fame. All she wanted now, with this man and in her state of ill health, was a little peace and happiness and this day was proving to be just the stuff that dreams were made of.


	15. Spring Time

Chapter Fifteen: Spring Time.

The conversation between Christine and Erik was never ending now. They sat together for hours and played their music, or spent time in Christine's library as the sun faded to bring a close to the day. In this way Christine passed the remained of her winter. Her days were not all good, but Erik was around to help make her comfortable. At the same time her days were not all bad. She became more mobile as the weather began to change and though the pain was some days unbearable and they did go through many bad moments, on others she would find ways to be comfortable enough to pass the time cheerfully. Christine had become thankful for the attention that he gave to her and as the days passed by she realized that thankfulness changed to admirations and admiration changed to desire. She began to fear his leaving, she missed him in times when he wasn't around and she begged him to be with her through the night. She pulled him close to her and buried herself in the warmth of his body; she was desperate to be held by him.

Together they dealt with the letters that came from the opera house with ever sort of news. Andre and Fermin were always anxious as new productions go, but most of all they had a great fear of disaster. Erik knew that this behaviour was because of him, but at times they were so ridiculous that he and Christine could not help but laugh. Opening night was set at last, however, and with Christine's improvements she had vowed to be present at the opening night performance. Erik knew that it would all depend on her pain, and would not take her promises at face value but he hoped that she would attended the opera with him that night as he had promised to attend to her that evening as well.

In this time of improvements and spring awakening, Christine even ventured out into her garden; never without Erik. Spring had started to take its hold on the little secret world she had created for herself as the ivy began to change colour and the trees began to bud once again.

"I am most interested to see how my rose fair this year," Christine smiled as they passed the bare branches of the rose bushes.

"They've done well in your green houses," Erik said optimistically, "why would they not do well out here. You are very attentive to them."

"But they have had to suffer as I did, through that horrible winter," Christine said sadly as she reached out and touched some of the thorn covered branches.

"It was an unusually cold winter," Erik confessed, "but you seemed to come through it splendidly, I think your roses will follow your lead."

"Roses are not as resilient as some humans are," Christine giggled.

"I know," Erik smiled, "I just prefer to argue with you on the good points because I enjoy seeing you smile." He confessed.

"Then I shall argue with you, all you want." Christine laughed as a blush fell over her face.

"I want you to know that I have thoroughly enjoyed my time here with you, the good days and the bad days," Erik said as they walked along.

"You make it sound like you are leaving," Christine said in nearly a whisper.

"I have been with your for days, weeks even, and not returned to the opera house once," Erik said sadly, "I do not want to leave, but I fear that I should check on things the things that I have left behind." He said.

"But you would come back to me," Christine said looking up into his face. There were tears in her eyes now, "I need you to come back."

"I will never leave you Christine," He said taking her into his arms as the tears rolled down her cheeks.

"I know that you must go," Christine sighed, "but promise me you will return here."

"I will," he said.

"Every night?" she asked.

"If that is your wish," he said.

"I do wish it. I want to feel you beside me. I need your warmth," She whispered into his chest as she hugged him tighter to her.

"I will be there when you wake, my love," he whispered.

"I want you there when I go to sleep," She stated.

"Then I will be back before the stars come out each night," He whispered.

"Then I will let you go," She sighed sadly.

"I am not leaving you today," he said trying to cheer her up. "You have me to yourself all of this day. I am at your command, Madame."

Christine walked on with him in silence for a long time before they exited the secret garden and walked back toward the house. Her mind had been agitated from the moment he mentioned his leaving and worry came over her. She did not want him to go back into the opera house to be the ghost he had long ago been. She wanted him to be the man that she saw and the person whom had stolen her heart at last. He was no longer the phantom of the opera, a person to be feared, but a gentleman, her Erik.

"I fear I have upset you," Erik said as they walked into the foyer of the house.

"I'm just tired, I think," Christine said her eyes red from her tears and fatigue was written all over her face.

"You should lie down," he said.

"I don't want to be alone," she said softly.

"I'll come with you," he whispered.

Mischief darted into Christine's eyes as she looked at him and it startled Erik in the flash of that moment.

Philippe walked into the foyer as the two of them stood there and helped Christine remove the outdoor clothing she had been wearing. The weather still wasn't warm enough for her to venture out with out a, a shawl and a bonnet that covered ears. She wore a scarf tightly around her neck but soon Philippe had removed them all and her light gown was all that remained, showing off the woman that Christine still was.

"Is there anything you need, Madame?" Philippe asked.

With a quick glance at Erik, Christine answered in the negative and moved toward the stairs.

"I am going to lie down," she said as Erik offered him her arm to help her mount the stairs.

"Very well," Philippe said, "we will prepare your tea when you ring for it," he added and walked awake.

Christine and Erik walked in silence until they had reached the dressing room off of her bedroom and she turned abruptly and locked the door behind them.

"What are you doing?" he asked knowing what the mischief in her eyes mean and feeling uncomfortable by her forcefulness.

"I want you to take me to your heart," Christine said coming away from the door and reaching out to him.

"You are not well, my love," he whispered as he wrapped his arms around her, "You are weak and fragile, I can't. I could not live with myself if I hurt you."

"What if I am never well enough?" Christine asked tears in her eyes, "I feel fine today; I want you to love me."

"I do love you," He said gently. "And you will be well again."

Christine looked up into his face; sadness, longing and desire stared at him and broke his heart, "I feel well now. I want you now. I need you." she pleaded. "I know you will be gentle."

"I will be," Erik said as he leaned in and kissed her, "please don't cry." He whispered as he kissed her tears away.

Christine led Erik through the adjoining door; into her bed room. Most of their clothing lay strewn on the dressing room floor as passion took over their better judgement. The door was locked behind them and there they stayed, in loves embrace, for the remainder of the day.


	16. Between Morning and Evening

Chapter Sixteen: Between Morning and Evening.

Erik awoke again with the sun, the discussions of days and the actions of lovers had caused him to put off his lurking through the opera house for longer than he had expected but the night before Christine had agreed to let him return and now, as the sun rose, he was determined to leave her house and be back once more before evening.

Philippe had laid out his clothing, the ones he had first arrived wearing, in the dressing room that was now as familiar to him as the rest of the house, and Erik dressed and washed before going down to breakfast.

"You are determined to be away before the mistress is awake?" Philippe asked as Erik ordered a horse be sent for.

"The sooner I go, the sooner I will be back," Erik stated sadness in his eyes.

"She knows you will return," Philippe smiled. "We'll take good care of her while you are gone."

"I know you will," Erik said helping himself to coffee, "but I dread this first departure, so I wish to make it as swiftly as possible. Please have the horse ready as fast as possible."

"It will be done, monsieur." Philippe said and bowed out of the room.

By the time Erik had finished his breakfast, Philippe returned with news that the horse was ready. Sanding from the table and taking his cloak and gloves from Philippe, Erik moved into the foyer only to be caught by Christine, in her night gown coming down the stairs on her own.

"You would leave without saying goodbye?" she asked as the men rushed to her.

"I said goodbye, but you would not wake up to hear it," Erik smiled.

"Safe journey, my love," Christine smiled and leaned in to kiss him, "you will be back for dinner," she stated.

"Yes, I will," he said kissed her again and bowed to leave.

"You will give my regards to Madame Giry and invite her and Meg to dinner with us soon?" Christine called across the foyer.

"If it pleases you," Erik said and waved from the door.

"He is not the same man who showed up hear in the fall," Christine said as she took Philippe's arm and he lead her back up the stairs to where she would get dressed.

"And you are not the same woman," Philippe smiled, "he has melted all the coldness away from you."

"You always knew he would," Christine smiled, "how did you know?"

"I've watched you since you were a little girl. I knew what the de Chagnys were and you knew I never wanted to see you with that lot. Erik was honest and passionately in love with you. He would have made you a better husband and would have loved you no matter what your circumstances were. Your illness being of the type that it is he would have moved you out of the gold of that place and into the warms of some secret house where you would have lived happily all of your lives. Now you will have to settle for this reunion, and hope that life is happy and bountiful for you two and whatever time you may have left." Philippe said.

"I am sorry I didn't listen to you, monsieur," Christine said lowering her eyes to the ground.

"Children never listen when those who are older and wiser speak the truth," Philippe laughed.

"I will listen more attentively from now on, I promise," Christine smiled and kissed the old man's cheek.

Erik road as fast as he could through the brightening day, he knew that the opera would be bustling on this day of the week as it was their delivery day, but he wanted to be there as swiftly as he could. Once he arrived he left the borrowed horse in the stable yard with his instructions and snuck back into the darkness of the theatre. The familiar walls led him to familiar places but through it all he realized just how much he missed all his life. The darkness covered every joyful thing and even the place where he spent so many years dwelling was cold, damp, and no place for a person to live.

Among his belonging he found his mask, placed it one his face and continued to do all that he had come to take care of. The longer he stayed the more he wanted to leave because Christine was not present in anything here. He packed up the few belonging that he wanted to return with and the rest he left behind. It would lay in waiting for some other phantom, some other time, or it would just rot away to nothing. He didn't care. As he moved back through the opera house he remembered all his traps, secret passage ways and wrongful deeds. The place was like a plague on him now and as he made his way to box five with a small bundle of clothing and personal effects he longed for a time when he could just walk around this place without the fearful stares and jumpy actions of the people he passed nearly without noticing.

Box five was as it had always been. There were letters piled high in the seat that remained and he gathered them up and placed them in his bundle and hid it in one of the trap doors that opened into the box. He then took his seat and watched as the rehearsals began for his opera. The time was drawing nearer to the performance date and he looked forward to taking up his place on the orchestra level, or in one of the other boxes with Christine. She vowed that she would be present, through thick and thing, whether she was well or unwell; she wanted to see that the performance, to make his name famous, would take place without any disruptions. As he watched the ballet dancers and the chorus singers cross the stage to hit their cues he listened for the stings that played the main love theme, a theme that had long ago rang in his heart for the woman of his dreams and who know the theme now as her own. On their reunion, the night he had come to her manner house, this was the melody that she had played from her own memory, a melody that had only been written for her. This, his second Grande Opera, _Les Miser de L'amour, _which he had written during his most dark depressions, was now a symbol of all that love could bring. It had seen its beginnings on the day he knew that Christine had married, but if was finished in a way that brought love together. He could not darken the love that he had wished for and though he believed, at the time, that he would not know true love, he wrote about it, immortalized it, and presented it as one of his more thoughtful and epic operas. Now as he sat listening to lines that once plagued his heart he heard the promise that love could bring. Christine loved him. She had given herself to him completely, and wished only to have him around. Her eyes filled with tears with talks of departures and separations, but she kissed him goodbye with such a heartfelt passion that screamed come back to me. He heard her voice over the singing of the violins and the staccatos of the vocals as he contemplated that kiss they had shared and the embraces that were to come.

Erik stood suddenly realizing that he wanted nothing to do with the opera house, but rather, he would return now to the woman that he loved. There was nothing in this place without her and so he would leave until he could return with her to this place and present the opera that he had dreamed in the form of true love. As he turned he realized that there was someone outside the box and he crouched into the darkness of the secret passage that backed into the corner.

Madame Giry walked into the box just as he cloak disappeared and started to see that all of the letters were gone from his seat.

"You are here, I know you are," she whispered into the shadows of the box as she placed another letter on his sea.

"I'll take that now, if you don't mind," he said stepping out of the shadows.

"It has been over a month that you have not returned to the opera house," Giry said.

"And I am not staying now," he said placing the letter in his pocket. "is this my salary?" he asked.

"Oui monsieur," Giry stated. "You are returning to Madame de Chagny?" she asked.

"Yes," Erik answered, "she wishes to see you and Meg at the manner house for dinner. What can I tell her?" he asked.

"She can expect us in two days," Madame Giry stated, "We are engaged until that time."

"I will give her the news," He said and bowing he tried to slip away.

"Is she any better then she was?" Giry asked as she grabbed his arm.

"She has her moments," Erik answered, "some are very bad and some are very good."

"And you are taking care of her?" she asked.

"I try," he answered.

"And what do you get in return?" Giry asked.

"I do not ask for anything in return," he said a hint of offence in his voice.

"But what do you get?" She asked again.

"I have received a happiness that I had never dreamed about," he answered bringing his face into the light.

"I see it in your eyes," Giry said as she stared at him for a long time, "she has softened you."

"I hope so," he said.

"I will see you on Thursday," Madame Giry stated and releasing his arm she curtsied and left the box.

Erik rode once again as swiftly as his horse could carry him. The sun was now high in the sky and the warmth of the spring day made him sweat beneath his heavy cloak and mask. He was not used to being out on days like this, especially at such an hour but he was determined to put the opera house behind him. He pushed the horse to its limits till the very end and came to a sudden and frantic stop just outside the front entrance to the manner house. The servants rushed out to greet him and all was settled with the horse before he bounded up the stairs and through the entrance.

"Erik!" Christine cried as she rushed from the music room. She looked lovely, the smile on her face brightening her every feature and she moved with ease and grace, "I wasn't expecting you until dinner time." She said as she fell into his arms as he discarded his cloak.

"Really, I was sure we agreed that I would return for tea," He teased as he held her tightly to him. "I just couldn't stay away. There was nothing to amuse me at the theatre and I longed to be with you." he added and leaned in to kiss her.

"Why do you wear the mask?" Christine asked as she reached out and touched his face.

"Because I am the phantom of the opera, its all part of my uniform," he joked as he pulled the mask from his face, "is that better?" he asked.

"Much," Christine smile, "I missed you," she whispered.

"I missed you too," he smiled.

"Your tea is served, Madame," Philippe said interrupting their moment.

"Thank you," Christine sang and led the way back into the music room, "Well what news have you of Madame Giry?" she asked as they sat down to tea.

"Would you be terribly offended if I changed and bathed before I took my tea with you, my dear? It has been a long morning and it was a rather uncomfortable ride." Erik said as he loomed over her.

"Not at all," She smiled up at him, "but please hurry back, I have many questions."

Erik returned in do time, dressed much more like a gentleman and he settled himself beside Christine on a small sofa to take their tea. He placed a bundle of letters on the table before him and took his tea cup as it was offered to him.

"What's all this?" Christine asked pointing at the letters.

"More then a months worth of demands and payments to the opera ghost," Erik smiled. "I have many things to take care of in the opera house, even though Andre and Firmin do not believe that I earn my money." He chuckled.

"If only they knew all of the things you do for them!" Christine laughed, "And what of Madame Giry, will she come to dine?"

"Yes, Thursday," Erik answered, "they have other engagements before then."

"That's grand!" Christine smiled playfully, "that gives us two days to ourselves."

Erik laughed at her playfulness but saw the ease of her movement and was happy that she was comfortable, "you are having a very good day today," he said has he reached out and took her hand.

"I am," She smiled, "I feel better then ever. I am a little worried that it won't last, but I was looking forward to a walk today, if you would care to join me after tea, I would be pleased to have the company."

"I am at your disposal," He said and leaned back against the back of the sofa.

"And what is to come of your letters?" she asked as she leaned into him and cuddled up to his chest as she pulled her feet off the floor and tucked them up under her skirt.

"They've waited this long, they can wait a few more hours," he stated and they continued in simple conversation until the servants returned to take away the tea things.


	17. Dinner Engagement

Chapter Seventeen: Dinner Engagement

Although Christine and Erik spent much of their time alone together; in the weeks leading up to the opera debut, they had planned more then one visit and dinner engagement. The first of these nights was to take place at Christine's home and would welcome Madame Giry and her daughter into their small, party. Christine was excited at the prospect of entertaining her old friend and with the drastic improvements in her health she was aglow with anticipation and worked diligently with her staff to make the manner beautiful. Fresh flowers were placed in every room and the house was cleaned from top to bottom, even though they did not expect their guest to say with them. Christine was happy and proud that Erik would be with her.

Erik on the other hand was nervous for such a meeting. Christine had requested that he participate in the dinner just as he would with her. There was to be no putting on of airs or over exaggerating the elegance of the house. He was asked to appear as he was, dressed as a gentleman and without make up. For Christine he was willing to do anything, and was comfortable without his mask in her house. In the beginning the staff, with the exception of Philippe, had been leery off his face. They stared or cringed at the sight of him, but they had improved and although he knew that Giry had seen his face, Meg had not and he did not want there to be any discomfort that evening. He decided that he would do the bidding of the lady of the house and though he was very meticulous in his dressing and his toiletries that evening, he appeared before the guesses arrived, without any false faces or masks.

"You look very handsome," Christine smiled as she stood and greeted him as he entered the library where she had been quietly reading.

"You know, you are the only person alive that would call me handsome," he said with a smile.

"And I am the only creature in the world that matters, am I not?" Christine asked playfully.

"This is very true," He smiled. "I don't care about anyone but you."

Christine blushed as she came forward and kissed him. He offered her his arm and they left the library together. As they passed through the hall the sound a of carriage called their attention to the entrance and moments later Madame Giry, dress in her finest and more dominating black uniform walked in, followed by her very beautiful and very fair daughter, dressed in a modest gown. Christine moved forward to greet them with excitement while Erik watched more subdued as he watched Meg looked upon his face and start.

"Allow me to introduce you to Monsieur Erik Reneaux," Christine stated seeing the shock in Meg's face.

"Monsieur Reneaux?" Meg asked in confusion.

"Oui Mademoiselle," Erik said and reached out to kiss her hand, "you may call me Erik if you prefer."

Christine smiled proudly at the introduction and moved to have everyone settled in a rather formal sitting room that was hardly used on a normal day.

"You are looking much better then when I first saw you again," Madame Giry said to Christine as she sat down. "I will admit, you gave me quite a start. Am I to believe that you are recovered from your dreadful illness?" she asked.

"Not completely," Christine said cheerfully, "But I do feel much better today. Unfortunately you saw me on one of my worst days. The winters do not agree with me anymore, but now that spring has arrived, I have more good days then bad. Perhaps, if the spring and summer prove to be months of comfort to me, I may have to find myself in a place where winter does not exist." She said with a smile, "I have the money and the means to travel; perhaps I should travel to the Mediterranean for my winters."

"Perhaps the sea would do you good," Meg said with a sweet smile.

"It may," Christine said excitedly, "but I would have to move my entire house staff with me. I do not think I could survive without them."

"And what would happen to the opera season?" Madame Giry asked, "Would you continue to provide as a patroness or would your money go to other opera houses in the southern most past of Europe?"

"I would continue in my patronage of the Opera Populair as it was once my home, but I would have to be very particular as to the planning of the opera schedule. I could not live with myself if an opera by my dear Monsieur Reneaux was performed while we were not in Paris to see it." Christine said.

"Ah you would most certainly travel with a chaperone then?" Madame Giry asked her eyes on Erik who sat silently.

"Most certainly," Christine stated, "Philippe has always been my chaperone. Monsieur Reneaux is my companion."

Erik smiled at Madame Giry from his place.

"Would you be interested in traveling, monsieur?" Meg asked finally getting up the courage to look at him again. The second time she brought her eyes to look at his face she did not cringe but rather took stock of what his features where and what made the scares so prevalent. She saw past them in that moment and saw the gentleman that sat across from her and wondered what the sadness of his life would have been. "Surely you would not want to be away from the opera house completely." She stated after much thought and careful contemplation.

"Indeed, if Christine wishes to travel and the doctors tell us that it is suitable for her condition then I will do all that I can to make her comfortable." Erik said politely as he smiled at Meg, "I wish to take a different role at the opera in this time of my life. I am convinced that I will always lurk and frighten as my legend lives on in the theatre but I don't need to be there to coax it. Andre does that rather well."

"I did not mean to offend, Monsieur," Meg said casting her eyes to the floor, "I simply meant in regards to your productions."

"I did not take offence," Erik said, "please do not feel uneasy. I am perfectly content to let someone else run the show and I know that my operas are in capable hands. My main concern was to be known for my talent rather then my horrific past, now I concern myself only with Christine and her well being."

"Do you write still?" Meg asked with enough courage to raise her eyes from the floor.

"Constantly," Erik smiled and Meg could see the hint of something handsome in them. "But I will confess to being tired of La Carlotta and so I have put my efforts into writing a ballet, or at least the music for one." He added as he saw her smile back at him.

"You flatter me sir," Meg smiled. "You could not have chosen a better topic for my humble enjoyment," she added, "I look forward to hearing the music and being able to dance to it."

"I do have a rather large part in mind for you, ma belle, but I would like to know how you feel about death in a ballet. I fear that it just doesn't work well in itself and i would fear that a ballet that is a tragedy may not be so appropriate to the art form." Erik said.

"Indeed it is not common, but what is art if not ever changing?" Meg asked excited now, "change the face of ballet, I implore you. If there is anyone that could do it, it would you."

"You see, I have told you many time you are a brilliant and creative composer," Christine laughed pleased with the conversations, "not all you reputation is bad."

"This news does indeed lift a great weight from my soul," Erik smiled. "I will be sure to write you a very great and spectacular tragedy, mademoiselle," he said to Meg, "and I promise to be around for the performance."

Meg blushed at the compliment but the subject was shortly changed and the announcing of their dinner interrupted the easy conversations that had passed between them.

Christine kept a magnificent chef in her manner house and though he never complained, he was exited to provide a grand meal at last for guests in his mistress's house. Five courses and deserts passed by in cheerful chatter and great acclaim to the maestro of the kitchen and when it was all over the small party retired to the music room where Erik took his seat at the piano and the ladies gathered around to hear excerpts from the new ballet he was working on.

"My goodness it is lovely, sir," Meg said after another passage of music ended, "you play with such emotion and though I am enamored with the melodies, I can feel the pain and the sorrow in it. I want to weep."

"Please keep your tears for you pillow," Madame Giry stated trying to curb her daughter's foolishness.

"I am happy you like it," Erik smiled at the young woman. She was in the height of her boom and yet she was only slightly younger then Christine. Meg Giry was a woman dedicated to her craft who was uninterested in a life outside of the ballet hall and undesiring of the admirers that she had acquired. For Meg the art was her passion and her pleasure and she would lend herself splendidly and dedicatedly to the ballet if she was asked. "I do confess I have you in mind for much of the dancing," Erik added and saw the girl blush again. "I have watched you in that theatre for a very long time and I have seen how passionate you are about the art and how much you shrink away from the distractions of society. I think you would be perfect for the tragic heroine of this ballet."

Meg blushed deep red as Christine squealed in glee, "you will be magnificent Meg, it is the role you have always dreamed of!"

"It truly is," Meg said softly.

"Well, you had better practice harder then any other girl in that opera ballet," Madame Giry said, "you will have to prove yourself worthy of such a role because I cannot just hand it to you without inviting in the censure of the entire world."

"Oh I would never ask you to momma," Meg stated, "I will work very hard indeed."

"The phantom will demand it," Erik stated with a smile at the girl. "I normally get my way around the opera house." He added with a chuckle.

"In that case, the role is as good as yours, my dear," Madame Giry smiled. "but you will still have to work very hard, for I will not have a daughter of mine falling on her face in her solo debut!"

"I would be mortified!" Meg stated.

"You'll be amazing!" Christine said.

Their evening ended shortly after their evening tea and the carriage was called round to the front entrance. Madame Giry and her daughter left in high spirits, with the promise of a swift return once the opera performances were on their way. Christine and Erik waved them off from the stairs before returning to the house.

"You are serious I hope, about Meg," Christine said as he walked with him up the stairs.

"Of course I am," Erik smiled, "she is the best dancer in that group of silly girls."

"She was also a very dear friend," Christine smiled.

"I do hope you will rekindle that friendship," Erik stated once they were in the foyer again, "you need companionship my dear, and I do not know about Raoul, but I would never wish for you to turn your back on friends. Besides, Meg needs a break from that opera house. She is bombarded by fops and all kinds of silly young men. She needs some kind of escape."

"I agree," Christine smiled, "I will take the steps to renew the acquaintance now that I know she is willing."

"I think that is a splendid idea," Erik smiled leading her toward the grand staircase, "Anything that may make you happy will make me happy."

"And how do you feel about appearing without your makeup or your mask?" she asked.

"In this place I can be as comfortable as a cat, but I do not know how people would react to see me in public places," he answered.

"Then I shall have to entertain more here, with only people I like, and then we will see if we cannot build for you a more encouraging society. You should have some friend as well," Christine stated.

"If I have you, I have all I could want," he smiled and they retired for the night.


	18. Overly Enthusiastic

Chapter Eighteen: Overly Enthusiastic.

The second for the dinner engagements, for Christine and Erik took place at a café near the opera house. It happened on the night before the opening of the show and happened just after the final dress rehearsal. Christine and Erik had not attended the dress rehearsal in the hopes that it would all be a surprise when they returned to the opera the following day, but they were insisted upon to join Andre and Firmin as well as the primary cast for dinner in anticipation.

Christine suffered one of her pour health days just the day before and so upon preparing for this evening out she was found to be greatly fatigued and in a weakened state. Erik worried that the carriage right and the exertion would be too much but Christine was determined to attend all of the celebrations in honor of him and his opera and so they left as the sun began to set that evening.

Erik donned his makeup and Christine all the finery of a Countess to enter into the farce once more. This time however, the carriage ride was spent in lively conversation and ridicule for the attention that they were soon to be the recipients of.

"Andre will be vocally enthralled with the performance. Not a detail will escape him while he praises the music to high heaven," Erik said mockingly as they rode along.

"And Firmin will hush him at every mention of the phantom." Christine smiled.

"And Meg will join in your amusement of him not recognizing me," Erik laughed.

"I should hope so." Christine said.

"And if it becomes too much for you, my darling, we will leave," he said taking her hand, "you want so much to be well for tomorrow that I could not consent to keeping you out all night."

"You know me too well," Christine smiled and kissed his hand, "I do confess that I would be pleased to be alone with you, rather than out tonight, but I believe that you deserve celebrations and once you have had enough of all their enthralling remarks and best wishes all you will need to do is wink at me and I will protest the late hour if only to find myself alone with you earlier than we anticipated."

"I will do just that," Erik smiled, "but perhaps you would like to eat before I grow tired of their celebrating, so I will wait till after desert is served."

"You would leave after a five minute interview, would you now?" Christine asked with a laugh.

"I would, indeed," He smiled.

Christine giggled and leaned into him as they rode on.

The café was closed when Christine and Erik arrived and yet they were ushered in by a valet dressed in the opera finery. The café was reserved for those of the opera party only and so it would prove to be a pleasant enough evening as the building was large enough to be comfortable and yet it would still be filled with common annoyances and overly excited individuals. Erik and Christine took their places among the throngs of theatre workers and were assaulted at once by La Carlotta and her praise of the opera's composer.

"Monsieur, I have to say that this is the most beautiful, most spectacular, most amazing composition I have ever had the pleasure of singing. I am enamored with this opera. I love it more then life! You are a genius monsieur!" she stated and batted her eyes at Erik flirtingly.

"I thank you Madame," Erik smiled politely and turned his attention back to Christine and Meg, where he rolled his eyes and they giggled.

"And I have song so many leading soprano roles in my time, but I feel like this was written for me!" Carlota praised

"Indeed, Madame, the thought had never crossed my mind that the brilliant and vibrant La Carlotta would ever sing one of my operas!" Erik said fueling her fussing.

"Oh monsieur you are too humble!" Carlotta squealed. "I am the one honored to be singled out by such a brilliant and new composer. I do love a new show. They are so exciting and unknown! It will make you famous monsieur! All of Europe will want your works!"

"I hope so, Madame, a man must make a living!" Erik smiled.

"Oh indeed you will be rich beyond your wildest dreams!" Carlotta sang.

Christine and Meg giggled away to one side of Erik while Carlotta continued to assault him on the other said. Across the table from him Madame Giry sat with calm, somber eyes, as if reading his soul. As the evening wore on, and people began to move about the room, Madame Giry saw her opportunity to address him at last and pulled him aside to a corner where she knew that Christine could still see him but most others would not.

"Monsieur, I must press you on one matter that I think is of the utmost importance," She said in a hushed voice.

"What is it Madame?" he asked politely.

"Under normal circumstances, I would never take such a liberty," she whispered and he could see that over all things, over her calm exterior and her scolding eyes, she had always feared him.

"There is nothing normal in my circumstances anymore. I implore you to speak freely." He said and forced a smile.

"People are going to start talking about you and la Countess," Madame Giry whispered. "You are always with her, you travel together, and as far as everyone knows you live together."

"You know all these things to be true," Erik said unconcerned.

"Yes, and that is my worry," She said worriedly, "you have learned much about society from her but I fear that you are not aware of what propriety dictates. I know you are in love with her, and she is in love with you, but you should not be living with a woman whose husband died. It does not look right."

"Christine does not care about what people think, and nor do I," he stated.

"I know, but if you want a clean reputation and all that goes with it, you will marry her." Giry whispered. "It is the proper thing to do." She said and walked away.

Erik stared for a moment as the woman left. There had been a time in his life when all he thought about was marriage to Christine, but in this time they had spent together, through her illness and their passion, it had never crossed his mind. Now, as he looked across the room and saw her smiling at him, he knew that Madame Giry was right and he could feel himself flushed with nervousness and anticipation. Contemplation crossed his face as he watched Christine and she watched him and then all of a sudden she winked. The end of their evening had come, she wanted to go home where they would be alone, but he didn't know if he had the courage to ask her what was now on his mind.

Erik walked quickly across the room and took Christine's outstretched hand.

"I can see that you have grown weary to this company," Christine whispered into his ear.

"I have," he confessed, "and you?"

"I wish to be at home," she said and looked deep into his eyes.

"I'll call for the carriage," he said and kissed her hand.

Christine sat silently as she waited. There had been a flash of something that crossed Erik's countenance that was unnerving to her. He seemed distressed by something but he was also very concerned and she could tell that it was all directed at her.

He returned to her side and joined in her conversations until the carriage arrived and then they departed together, leaving the celebrations earlier than anyone else, and riding home in silence. Christine cuddled up to him and the gentle rocking of the carriage nearly caused her to fall asleep. Erik held onto her tightly. He never wanted to let her go.


	19. Stormy Night

Chapter Nineteen: Stormy Night.

The weather of the evening turned stormy and harsh before the carriage pulled up to the front entrance of the manner house. The rain poured hard on the ground and slowed the progress as the streets became rivers of water. Lightning split the sky and the thunder shook the earth, and Christine shivered in his arms as the violence of the storm brought uneasiness to them both.

Finally the carriage arrived at its destination and the footmen and the servants rushed around in the rain to get the occupants of the carriage and the horses to shelter as quickly as possible. With the fatigue Christine was slow moving and as the door opened and Erik climbed out she struggled to follow him. He pulled her into his arms and carried her up the stairs and into the house, as quickly as he could, to get her out of the storm and into the safety of the foyer.

"I am sorry, I am so troublesome," Christine whispered as he placed her on her feet in the foyer.

"You are not troublesome, my love," He said as he handed his cloak and his hat to one of the waiting servants and helped her to remove hers.

"But I am. I can tell that something about tonight has unnerved you and I believe it has to do with me," Christine said, "and for that I am sorry."

"It isn't you," Erik said and forced a smile.

"You've lost the ability to lie, at least to me." Christine said and as he offered her his arm she took it and he led the way into the music room. "We'll take tea in the music room," she whispered to one of the waiting servants and walked on in silence.

"Perhaps I am a little unnerved," Erik confessed once the door was closed behind them, "but it is not because of anything that you have done."

"Madame Giry has said something that you did not like to hear," Christine stated and sat down in a chair near the fireplace.

"Yes, she had, but I am not sure whether I did not like to hear it or rather if I was just not expecting it." Erik said taking the seat across from her.

"Will you not tell me what it was?" Christine smiled. "we can decided how to deal with it together if it involves us both."

"It does involve us, but her concern seemed to lie in a realm in which we have never been traditionally concerned." Erik stated as he leaned back in the chair and crossed his legs.

"That is true, what is there traditional about us?" Christine laughed.

"My thoughts exactly, but at the same time I understand where she is coming from. I have never been worried about propriety before and the ballet mistress believes that I should start thinking about it for your sake." Erik confessed.

"Ah so she does not approve of us," Christine said as she looked playfully at him, "she never has you know."

"She had not reason to look poorly on us now, before I can understand her concern, I was ruthless, but now we seem to be on mutual grounds." He stated, "Or am I mistaken in that."

"You are not," Christine smiled, "what then is her concern for me?"

"She is concern that you should not be entertaining a gentleman, nay a composer, so openly now that you husband is dead." Erik stated.

"Ah she thinks I am going to ruin my reputation," Christine nodded. "then she is more attentive then a thought, for surely if people knew what we have done they would be mortified at our relationship," she smiled and once the tea service was placed and the servants were once again out of the room, she stood, moved to him and perched herself in his lap, "we will have to be more careful, my love," she whispered into his ear.

Erik smiled as she leaned in and kissed him, "I would assume you are feeling better," he joked.

"Much better," she smiled.

"I am sorry, but I think we need to talk on this unfortunate subject a little longer. I cannot allow you and your charms distract me," He said playfully, "Madame Giry believed that the proper thing to do in our situation and mainly this is proper by societal standards, is to marry." He whispered.

"Would you still have me after all these years," Christine asked as she straightened her back and looked at him seriously now.

"I would, if you were in complete agreement on the subject," He answered, "I cannot give you much, but I can protect you and take care of you." he added.

"I do not need anything more," Christine said tears welling up in her eyes, "all I want is your love and if propriety demands that we wed, then I will take it as an excuse to have you for the rest of my life." she whispered and kissed him.

The storm raged on outside the manner house, but inside there was nothing but happiness and love.

"You do understand, however, that in marrying me you take on more then I could have initially offered you," Christine said playfully, "From phantom to Count is not a terrible step, I should imagine. And from the bowels of a dark damp opera house to palatial estates and hundreds of archers of land at your disposal may provide you little time to lurk and compose and continue on in the lifestyle that you are used to."

"And riches beyond my wildest dreams," he laughed, "none of it matters. If only for your love, I would give it all up." He added and cradled Christine in his arms.

"Then it is settled," she whispered, "for propriety's sake, we will be the happiest couple in the world. I will make you promise to wait on me hand and foot in my terrible illness and in return I will give you everything happiness I can when I am well."

"I will give to you the music of my heart," he whispered, "for it has always been your music that I have written."

"I could not ask for more," she smiled and silence fell between them.

Erik and Christine listened to the storm for a long time before taking themselves off to bed. The night had changed from one of annoyances to that of absolute joy and they shared their love and their promise with one another.


	20. Reneaux's Opera

Chapter Twenty: Reneaux's Opera

The sun arrived again with the dawn and the prospects of a beautiful and productive day arrived with it. Erik once again woke before Christine but she had cuddled so closely to him, in all her beauty and dream like desire, that he could not separated himself from her. The touch of her hands and the warmth of her body against his was all that he longed for, and he remained where he lay until she began to stir herself.

"You have been watching me sleep," she whispered, her eyes still closed.

"Yes, you've given me permission to do so, as you have decided to pledge you life to me," he chuckled and brushed the curls of her unkempt hair from her face.

"But I would think that you would want to begin your day as it is going to be a very busy one," she said.

"I would like to do that, yes, but there is one small problem," he whispered, "you will not let me go, my love."

"This is true, in pledging yourself to me; you must be the victim of my cuddling. Until I have had my fill you are my prisoner monsieur." She joked.

"Woe to me. What is to become of me now?" he joked as she released him and he removed himself from the bed.

The day passed away cheerfully enough but as the afternoon drew near and the time of their departure approached, Erik began to feel the nervousness he had known when his first opera had debuted. He wanted and knew that this time would be different and as he dressed, put on his make up and paced the foyer waiting for Christine he thought about Don Juan Triumphant and how much his life had changed. Here he was, pacing a grand house, his shoes shined, a new tuxedo tailored for him alone, with golden cufflinks and bow tie. He was a completely different man, then that which invoked fear on an unsuspecting audience. This time he would sit with his fiancé and watch as his genius invoked pleasure and passion in the cast and the audience. He would not be planning or plotting, there would be no secret lurking or violence. It would only be him and the music this time.

Christine descended the grand stairs and met him where he stood. She was dressed in a gown fit for a queen. The stuffiness of her position in society and the airs that she had put on in the pursuit of a grand farce were gone, instead she wore a gown that made her happy, that played to the beauty of her eyes and which was not as tediously heavy as others she had been used to wearing for Raoul. This dress was a dress for Erik, it was to compliment his handsome figure and regal presence and she was pleased to take his arm as he offered it. On her finger she wore a ring that he had once given to her with demands and violence, but that she wore now in love and honesty. Their coming together had not been the work of society, of lust, or of revenge but a gradual, true love that spoke of their dedication to one another.

In happiness and mutual understanding Erik and Christine shared the evening that they had planned from the very beginning. In awe of what had happened to them in the short time or their reunion, they exuded the joy and the understanding that they had come to see in each other. Madame Giry watched them in contentment at their behaviour. They were as in love as any couple could be and through the face that was hidden below the makeup no longer brought fear but love to Christine's heart, Madame Giry know that their love would be the opening of new doors for Erik Reneaux. No longer did either of them live as captives to the society that had chained them but rather they had found a way to live within it, together.


	21. Epilogue

Chapter Twenty One: Epilogue.

I wish dear reader that I could say that Christine and Erik lived happily ever after, but I must admit that some things just cannot be. Though they were happy and very much in love, there were many trials for them. Christine continued to progress in her ill health and through her beloved Erik was by her side in all of the good days and the bad; she did pass away from this world. But do not be discontented, they lived a very full and very rewarding life together.

In the years following Monsieur Reneaux's success at the opera house, and throughout his married life with Christine he came to know much prestige in both genres of musical writing. He continued to produce glorious and vibrant operas but at the same time he wrote for the ballet true and some beautiful works of ballet came out of his music.

Christine lived another nineteen years after the death of Raoul. In this time she married Erik and they began the life that he had always wished for. With the ups and downs of her illness Christine managed for the first and second time, to become pregnant and she carried a son and a daughter to term. The son they named after Erik and the boy proved to be just as much a virtuoso as his parents in all aspects of his musical life. The little girl longed for adventure and found in her desire to break the bonds of society that she could do many things. Angelle, as they called her, was very much the angel of her father's eyes and he spent many hours in teaching her how to embrace whatever the world had in store for her, but he was also adamant that she follow her heart. The children of Erik and Christine wanted for nothing, and went on to great things in both of their lives, but those are not stories for me to tell.

Erik remained devoted to his wife to the very end and though it broke his heart to say goodbye to her at last, the life that she had given him had been more fulfilling then any he could have imagined for himself. He never returned to the opera house, though his legend as the phantom lived on in infamy and reports of the phantoms trickery continues to plague the opera to this day. There will forever be a ghost at the opera house, but I can tell you now, it is not Erik, for he gave up his lurking for the love that he had always longed for.


End file.
